BR(OK)EN
by Mayremmy
Summary: SISFIC - SEASON 3. People come and go. But what if we want them to stay? At some point, Emmy's going to have to realize that your loved ones can stay forever in your heart but not in your life.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Supernatural doesn't belong to me. I only own my OC Mary-Elisabeth "Emmy" Winchester**

 **EMMY'S POV**

Everyone leaves me.

At some point in time.

Everyone leaves …

Mom was the first – she left before I knew what a mother was. It wasn't her fault, she didn't choose her destiny, but she did chose mine. She made a deal with a demon, a decision that affected our family in more ways than one. After Azazel told me the truth, I couldn't stop thinking of every possible ' _what if'_. I came to the conclusion that she shouldn't have done it, she should've just given the demon what he wanted. She should've let him take me and the Winchesters would've had a perfect life. I was still a baby, too young to get attached to my brothers and parents, and they could've easily replaced me with another baby. But instead of doing that, my mother let her own emotions get in the way and did something that would forever change our lives. A cause that produced more than one effect, just like falling domino's. She should've known.

Sam was the second one – he left to chase his own dreams. Even though I was too young and oblivious to realize that the family business was getting in the way of his wishes, I still fully supported him. A happy brother made me happy too. But soon I realized that our family had no part in his future. He never told me that with actual words, I just always knew. I know he loves me, he says he'd die for us, but truth is it wouldn't surprise me if he leaves the first chance he gets. It's okay, I've come to live with the fact that he isn't the kind of person that stayed, not until he got what he wanted. Only problem is that Sam wants something he can never get … happiness.

Third person to leave me was the man I believed was my father, turns out he only pretended to be one for my sake. Dad was the kind of person that left more than stayed, but no matter what he always came back, _always._ He was everything I am not, like polar opposites, but he still shaped me into the girl I am today, for that I'll always be grateful. And despite our differences, we still had much in common – we lived for our family, we carried too much secrets around in our heads, and we were too scared to let go. I don't care about any piece of paper or test, that man is and would always be my one and only father. I may have learned to live without him, but just because he was out of my sight doesn't mean he was out of my mind and heart. I'll always miss you, Daddy.

They say people come and go, that's what life's about. For a long time I always shook my head at how wrong they were. People do appear and disappear from your life, but some of them stuck by your side. That person to me was my big brother Dean. Out of all people, he had every reason to leave. The day our mother's life ended, so did his. He suddenly couldn't be the child he still was, he had to grow up to be a man – a soldier to our Dad, a protector to our brother, and a father to me. He buckled under the stress and responsibilities, but his head was always held high. If he ever decides to go and live his own life, I would never resent him for it, he deserved it. Yet for some reason he always stayed like a big, heavy rock in the midst of a tornado. But I soon found out that the rock wasn't as solid as I thought it was, the tornado has managed to dislodge it.

They were right, people do come and go, even the ones I thought would stay. Stupid me. I would've forgiven him if he had told me he'd leave in hopes of a better life. But Dean was never that selfish, he always put others first. And I hated him for that. Why did our happiness always come with a price? What have we ever done to deserve this? Sometimes I blame my mother for this, she started all of this but was lucky enough to not experience the consequences. But as soon as I think of it I start feeling guilty.

I can deal with my mom not ever coming back. I learned to live with my Dad out of the picture. I'm starting to get used to Sam coming and going. But I don't think I can deal with Dean not being in my life. It's just isn't right. Living without Dean was like living with no air, there's no way you could survive. If he isn't going to stay, than who will? I hated that I was still too young, too sheltered, too dependent on others – I had nowhere to go.

What's even worse is that he only had a year. 365 days, 8760 hours, 525 thousand minutes, 31 million seconds, … but the numbers meant nothing cause in the end it was still a year.

 _1 year._

Sometimes I would force myself to sleep, just so I could wake up and realize it was all a horrible dream. I didn't want to face the nightmare that was reality. But it never worked, I was trapped, there was no way out. My only escape is when I close my eyes, like right now, and put my head against the window of the Impala where I could feel the familiar rumble of the radio and the cold touch of the leather against my skin. And I would pretend, pretend that this was just one of those many car rides with Dean behind the wheel, Sam snoring away in the passenger seat. Nobody's dying, nobody has come back to life, nobody has sold his soul to the devil. But it was all pretense, silly make-believe.

My body lurched forward lightly when the car came to a stop. I heard the sound of keys jiggling followed by the sudden absence of the music and rumble. There was a deafening silence, it was unnerving. I could practically heard them both think, they were too damn loud.

"I'll go get us a room," Sam offered abruptly. I've never seen him get out of the car so fast, the tension was probably suffocating him, too.

Would it be weird if I said I could hear Dean's watch ticking with every passing second? I started counting them, calculating the remaining seconds he had before … you know.

I felt a comforting hand on my knee and I shrugged it off in less than a second.

"Emmy, I – I," he started but his words seemed stuck in his throat.

He sighed, a little puff of air filled with hurt. Good. Let him feel what I feel.

"I'm really sorry, sweetheart. You'll understand why I did it, one day you will."

He was wrong – I already understood why he did it, but I hate how he thought it meant I'd forgive him. You can't hurt someone and then expect the wound to heal if you kept touching it. I swear, I'm almost eleven but they still act like I'm three. I'm not that girl anymore, I don't forgive and forget so easily. I've learned my lesson, I've learned from my mistakes. I've changed, maybe they should too.

A knock on my window made me blink my eyes open, relieved to see that Sam was already back. I got out of the car without a word, finding it ironic how the screeching sound of the car door resembled the sound of my heart crying. A raindrop fell on top of my nose, and I just knew I wasn't the only one who was sad.

I extended my hand to Sam, silently asking for the keys to our room. He hesitated for a second before handing them to me but he didn't let go of my hand. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, knowing what he wanted. Swallowing back the lump in my throat I looked up at him with an _I'm fine-_ look. Who was I trying to fool, Sam was the master of reading people like an open book. You know what, I don't even care. I'm not even going to hide it, yes I was devastated, yes I was hurt! I just hope he couldn't see the little flash of anger I felt towards him. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't his fault Dean was dying, but I needed a culprit, something to project my anger on. And no matter how hard I tried to hide it, I think he saw it because he suddenly let my hand go.

I could feel his puppy dog eyes on my back when I turned away. I felt so bad, I wish I could turn around and grab him and tell him I didn't mean it that way. I wasn't mad at him, I was just mad at the world, and the fact that our family was cursed. But I guess I was too weak to face him.

After I found our room, I didn't waste a second and instantly searched for a spare blanket and pillow. Luckily there was a couch and I quickly started with my make shift bed. I heard my brothers shuffle around the room, neither of them knew what to do or say. I grabbed my bag with some clean clothes and moved to the bathroom. I locked the door knowing full well I wasn't allowed to. I avoided the mirror, not wanting to see my own reflection.

I took off my hoodie, loving how my Dad's smell still lingered on the garment. Next I studied the healing scars on my arms where Yellow Eyes had cut me up. I still couldn't believe he was gone, but despite what we thought things didn't get any better. I pinched my eyes closed in an attempt to keep the tears at bay as I tried not to think of what was waiting for us.

I got into the shower and cleaned myself up, wishing I could wash away all the bad in this world. I don't know how long I had been in there, probably using up all the hot water. Eventually I decided to get out. I got dressed, put my wet hair in a messy bun and emerged from the bathroom. The smell of pizza hit my nostrils but I wasn't hungry so I straight up crawled into my bed slash couch. I lay down with my back facing them, trying to block their presence.

It was so funny how my brothers thought that just because I couldn't see them I couldn't tell what they were doing. I knew them better than that, and I knew that Sam was now giving Dean looks, telling him to do something. But Dean being the stubborn Winchester he was had no idea how to act. Now Sam was rolling his eyes followed by a death glare from Dean. What a bunch of marshmallows.

"No I'm not hungry, I'm just tired, yes I'm fine, no I don't wanna talk about it," I eventually said to put them out of their miseries.

"Honey – "

"Emmy, baby – "

"Goodnight," I cut them both off as I wrapped the blanket over my head. Couldn't they just leave me alone?

The light in the room dimmed and I was glad for the sound coming from the television, I don't think any of us could handle the silence. I felt the weight of another blanket around me and I hoped whoever did it didn't catch my shoulders shaking lightly or the sniffles. I could feel Dean hovering around me, I knew it was him – he always gave off a certain warmth, it's in the way the air shifted around him. It's hard to explain.

I thought he'd never leave until he placed his hand on top of my head, he leaned down to kiss my temple before whispering, "I love you."

 _You promised!_ I wanted to yell. You promised you wouldn't go anywhere without me and you lied! How could you? You can't keep saying sorry after every mistake you make and then tell me you love me as if that would fix everything. If you really love someone, even if there was a million reasons to leave, you'd still look for the one reason to stay. For years I thought I was that one reason, but now I found out how wrong I was. I couldn't make my Mom stay, I couldn't make my Dad stay, I couldn't make Sam stay.

And now I couldn't make Dean stay either.

 ** _A/N: Well hello, you beautiful people! Welcome back to Emmy's journey in this third installment. I'm so happy you decided to join me and I really hope I won't disappoint. As you can see this was just a prologue, next chapter will be canon. If you guys have any suggestions or ideas for BR(OK)EN, please don't refrain from sending me a review or pm, I'm all ears ;)_**

 ** _Don't forget to follow/favorite to stay updated. Also check out my tumblr (_** ** _mayremmy)_** ** _for some pictures I posted and my new cover for BR(OK)EN._**

 ** _Also I know I haven't been updating regularly, I apologize for that. I finally got a break from college until September, but now there's my job and personal life that are keeping me busy. But I'll try my best to write whenever and wherever I can. So when I'm taking too long, don't stop reminding me I need to hurry up :D_**

 ** _Love you XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_**


	2. The Magnificent Seven

**Disclaimer: Supernatural doesn't belong to me. I only own my OC Mary-Elisabeth "Emmy" Winchester.**

Sam sighed for the umpteenth time as he flicked through a book. He had picked it up in hopes that it would provide him some information about crossroad deals. He was desperately trying to find a way to save Dean in any way. He felt guilty and knew it was because of him that his brother now only had a year to live. The oldest Winchester had told him multiple times that he shouldn't blame himself but that was easier said than done. He could just sense it in the way they acted, especially Emmy. His sister never said it out loud but Sam was certain that she was feeling some resentment towards him.

He drew his eyes up over his book to watch his sister sitting across from him. They were currently seated in a booth at a random diner. Emmy was lazily sipping from her milkshake while doing her homework. She had rested her head on her propped up fist, occasionally blowing away a strand of hair from her eyes. It suddenly struck Sam how much she had grown up in such short amount of time. Her hair had grown longer, already reaching her lower back. Her facial features were less round and more pronounced, and her freckles were lighter. She was starting to look more and more like their mother. But she hasn't only changed physically, Sam noticed how mature she'd become. It pained him to think that the hardships of last year had a lot to do with it. He wished he could keep her a child a little bit longer but the current circumstances didn't make it easy on her.

A little smile tugged at his lips when she angrily slurped at her milkshake, followed by a little frustrated nose twitch.

"Need help?" He knew she was struggling with her science homework.

"No, I'm okay." She switched her position and rested her head on the other fist, using her free hand to erase something she had written.

"You sure? Tell me where you're stuck," he said as he reached for her book.

Emmy sat up, taking the book away from his reach. "I have to figure it out on my own."

Sam couldn't help but frown. That was another thing he noticed, lately Emmy refused to accept any form of help, she insisted she could do everything by herself. It reminded him of when she was just two and she thought she already had control over her own life. She finally got rid of her cast several days ago, it took some adjustment to get fully used to it again. The doctor told her to take it easy, step by step, and every time she'd struggle she'd claim she didn't need any help. Or just this morning Sam had seen her struggle tying her shoelaces but she didn't want to accept his assistance. And even last night when he tried to help her comb her hair, she had told him to just leave it. It was so unlike her to stubbornly refuse any form of help. Emmy never was an overly dependent girl, but the brothers did sometimes had to remind themselves that she was only ten years old, she was still too young not to ask for help. For her to suddenly try to be independent was something to get used to.

"What?"

Sam blinked, snapping out of his thoughts to meet his sister's worried eyes. "What?"

"You've been staring… is there something on my face?" Emmy wiped at the corners of her lips.

"No, no, I was just – just thinking," he said with a shake of his head as if to clear his mind.

"Oh, okay," she nodded slowly. She threw her brother one last look as if to make sure before getting back to her homework.

Sam bit his bottom lip, contemplating his next words. "Emmy?"

His sister looked up with a questioning expression.

"Are you mad at me?"

Emmy did _not_ expect that question and she was sure it showed on her face. "Why would I be mad at you?" she asked with a little laugh, hoping her brother wouldn't ask what she's been dreading.

Sam put his book down and leaned forward over the table. He didn't fail to notice how she stiffened a bit and her eyes widened for a second. He cleared his throat. "Are you mad that Dean brought me back?"

"What? _No_. No! Of course not!" she practically sputtered. Emmy noticed some people had turned their heads at her tone of voice. Embarrassed for her sudden outburst, she composed herself and crossed her arms over her chest. "Why would you even say that?"

Sam shrugged. "It's okay Emmy. I would understand if you were. You've already lost Dad, you almost lost me, and now you're losing Dean – "

Emmy held her hand up to shut him up. "Please, stop talking."

"Honey, I'm just trynna tell you – "

"Sammy, stop. Just stop." She fidgeted in her seat, not knowing where her brother was trying to go with this but it was making her uncomfortable. "I'm not mad at you, let's just drop this alright?"

"Emmy, hey, look at me," he grabbed her hands in his in an attempt to catch her attention, "I'm angry with myself too. There isn't a second that goes by that I don't blame myself. If I hadn't let Yellow Eyes catch me, if I hadn't fell in his trap and played along with his sick game, I wouldn't have died."

Emmy wanted to tell him that this was her fault too. Gabriel had warned her, he'd told her not to follow her brother into that convenience store. She'd seen the encounter with Azazel happen before in her dreams, yet she was too stupid to recognize the signs to actually do something about it. She wanted to tell Sam all about it but couldn't.

"There's nothing you could've done, Sammy, you know that," she decided to say, all the while avoiding eye contact.

"Maybe not, but Dean shouldn't have made the deal."

Emmy looked at him like he had sprouted another head. "And let you die?"

"What's the difference? He's the one dying now."

"Yeah, but – but – but, I don't want him dead either. I don't want either of you to die, I don't want anybody to die. Why does someone always have to die? And why are we talking about this again?"

Sam rubbed the back of her hands as he tried to calm her down a bit. "You've been distant lately, it's like you don't wanna have anything to do with us. And I get it, alright? I get it. You've been through a lot, you probably need some space and I just wanna make sure you know you can always come to us."

 _You have no idea what I've been through,_ Emmy thought to herself. She wanted to confront him about their dad not really being her father but she bit her lip. Now was not the time.

"I'm fine."

Sam had to refrain from scoffing. She was so much like her brothers sometimes. "You're not, Emmy. No one of us is fine. Just talk to me."

The youngest Winchester clenched her teeth. "Don't tell me how I feel, Sammy. Stop treating me like I'm a baby."

"Is this what this is about? You think we've been treating you like a baby? You trying to prove yourself to us?" He felt her pull her hands away from his but he only held on tighter. "Honey it's okay to ask us for help, Dean and I don't mind at all, it makes us feel useful."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," she forced through clenched teeth. "Please let my hands go."

"Emmy, don't push us away, just tell us what's going on in that little head of yours."

"Sammy let go or I'll scream," she threatened, "I will."

Sam didn't doubt her for a second, he just wanted to know why she suddenly was so closed off towards him. Emmy always used to open up to him about anything and everything.

"Sammy …"

He stared back at her, searching for something and felt a pang in his heart when all he could see was a mask hiding her true feelings. Such a Winchester thing to do. The tears started brimming her eyes and he decided to finally let go.

Emmy jumped out of her seat and went straight for the restroom without another word.

Sam sighed. He fell back in his seat and rubbed a hand over his tired face. _Great way to mess things up Sam._ He was torn between checking up on her or just leaving her alone for a minute. Before he could make a decision, his phone started ringing. At first he thought it was Dean who'd ask him to pick him up from wherever. Sam knew he didn't need to guess twice to figure out where his brother was at the moment, or with _whom_.

He picked up on the second ring. "Hello."

" _Hey, Sam,"_ Bobby's voice sounded through the speaker.

"Hey Bobby."

" _Watcha doing?_ "

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "Same old, same old."

" _You buried in that book again_?" The fact that Bobby didn't get an answer confirmed his suspicion. " _Sam, you want to break Dean free of that demon deal, you ain't gonna find the answer in no book._ "

"Then where, Bobby?" He was frustrated at the fact that the old man didn't have any better option. What's the point in quitting something when there's no alternative. Reading that book was the only answer he had at the moment.

" _Kid, I wish I knew_ ," Bobby sighed. " _So how's the little one doing?_ "

At the mention of his sister, Sam's eyes were trained on the door to the restroom. "Still not talking. You can see something's bothering her but she's not talking."

" _Just give her some time, she'll come around eventually_."

"When, Bobby? Time flies, I just don't want it to be too late – "

" _Boy, cut her some slack. She's just a kid, she's still trying to figure out a way to deal with it. So where's your brother?_ "

Sam rolled his eyes upwards. "Polling the electorate."

" _What_?"

"Never mind."

" _Well, you kids better pack it up. I think I finally found something_."

 **SPN**

 _Gabriel? Gabriel? Gabriel can you please answer my calls? I really need you._

Emmy looked around the bathroom stall, hoping the angel would appear but was once again disappointed. She had been calling the angel nonstop for the past week but she hadn't gotten any answer since she last saw him at the cemetery. Either he was too busy with angel business or he was just ignoring her. Emmy had a feeling it was the latter.

She didn't really have to go to the restroom but needed a break from Sam's interrogation. She hated how good he was at reading her, he knew something was up but Emmy didn't want to admit it. She didn't know where this behavior was coming from, usually Sam was always the person she reached out to when something was on her mind but now she didn't feel like sharing anything with any of her brothers. For some reason she wanted to keep her thoughts to herself.

Sam was waiting for her at their booth. He had already gathered their stuff and even refilled her milkshake, probably his way of a peace offer. He flashed her a small smile as he handed her drink. She took it and grabbed her backpack with her free hand.

"Bobby called. He said he got something."

At the mention of her surrogate uncle, Emmy's mood lifted up a bit. She always looked forward to see Bobby.

Sam led her out of the diner, holding the door open for her. "Listen Emmy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Emmy nodded. "I know. Can we stop talking about it now?"

Sam was about to say something but was surprised when he felt her small hand in his. She had forgiven him. He looked down at their intertwined hands as they walked to the car and decided to drop the matter … for now.

 **SPN**

It was close to midnight when Sam had pulled up at the motel where Dean was satisfying one of his needs. Sam just threw up a little in his mouth at the image of his brother doing _that._ Why in the world did he had to witness that, as if god hadn't punished him enough already. It was raining outside and a part of him wanted to ditch his brother just to give him a taste of his own medicine, the dog.

Emmy had fallen asleep in the front seat, he didn't want to move her to the back since she was already having a hard time sleeping. He carefully adjusted her position so that she was leaning against him, leaving enough space for Dean. She moaned a little but didn't wake up.

Dean was pulling his jacket over his head as he started for the Impala. The car jostled as he got in and Sam started the engine. Dean brushed a hand over his hair, flicking some rain drops.

"Let me see your knife," Sam said.

"What for?"

"So I can gouge my eyes out."

Dean chuckled. "It was a beautiful, natural act, Sam."

Sam cringed. "It's a part of you I never wanted to see, Dean."

His brother slapped his thigh, amused for some reason. "Hey, I appreciate you giving me a little quality time with the Doublemint Twins."

"Yeah, no problem," he commented offhandedly. He turned the car around causing Emmy to loll over to Dean's side.

"Really?" Dean cocked an eyebrow as he put his arm around his little sister, holding her against his chest. "Well, I got to say, I was expecting a weary sigh or an eye roll, something."

Sam shrugged. "No, not at all. You deserve to have a little fun. Just be glad Emmy wasn't there, poor girl already suffered enough, no need to traumatize her."

"Well, I am in violent agreement with you there." Dean grinned but his smile fell as he thought of his sister witnessing his 'natural act'. An uncomfortable shiver ran up his spine. He looked down at the sleeping girl and brushed some hair from her face. He couldn't remember the last time she was this close to him, physically. It seemed that the last few days all she did was avoid them as much as she could. She wouldn't even share a bed anymore. Dean just hoped it was her way of dealing with everything and that this phase would soon come to an end.

"So, Bobby called," Sam broke the silence.

Dean looked up from his sister, letting his fingers play with her hair. "Yeah? What's he got?"

"Not much. A crop failure and a cicada swarm outside of Lincoln, Nebraska. Ahh, could be demonic omens –"

"Or could just be a bad crop and a bug problem," Dean interrupted.

Sam threw a little glance at his brother. "Yeah, but it's our only lead."

"Any freaky deaths?"

"Nothing Bobby could find – not yet, anyway."

Dean let out a tired puff of air as he twirled a blonde strand of hair around his finger. "It's weird, man. I mean, the night the devil's gate opened, all these weirdo storm clouds were sighted over how many cities?"

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen," he nodded to himself. "You'd think it would be 'Apocalypse Now', but it's been five days and bubkis."

Sam briefly looked away from the road to throw him a confused look. What exactly did he mean?

Dean wet his lips in thought. "What are the demons waiting for?"

"Beats me."

"It's driving me crazy." Dean kissed his teeth in annoyance. "I tell you, if it's gonna be war, I wish it would just start already."

"I don't know, man." Sam wished he had the answers but he never had. "Be careful what you wish for."

Emmy startled when a loud truck drove past. She was momentarily confused but soon recognized her surroundings and remembered that she must've fallen asleep.

"You alright, sweetheart," Dean asked as he fondly smoothed down her hair.

Emmy noticed she had been leaning against him and sat up. "Yeah, I'm fine." She was starting to move out of the seat when her brother stopped her.

"Where you going?" he questioned but she didn't reply and got to the back.

"Backseat is more comfortable," she mumbled as she snuggled into a blanket and her teddy bear Johnny.

"Well, g'night then," Dean said in an attempt to get something out of her.

"Mhmm," was all she said before turning to face away from them.

Dean and Sam exchanged a look but didn't say anything. Not more than a month ago, all Emmy would do is beg to sit upfront.

 **SPN**

Next morning, Emmy was glad she could finally stretch her legs and breathe in some fresh air. They had already made a short stop to freshen up and grab something to eat but she was aching to leave the tension in the car.

She zipped up her jacket and looked around to see an abandoned farmhouse – she had no idea where they were and why and frankly she couldn't care less. The only thing she was interested in was seeing her favorite uncle again.

"Emmy, don't wander off," Sam warned before addressing his brother. "Hear those cicades?"

"That can't be a good sign," Dean pointed out, taking a huge bite of his hamburger.

"No. No, it can't," Sam agreed.

Emmy who had been walking around the field stopped dead in her tracks. She absolutely loathed bugs. Taking several steps back, she tried to casually make her way back to her brothers, scared that one of those crickets would jump on her or whatever it is they do.

"So, we're eating bacon cheeseburgers for breakfast, are we?"

Dean licked off his fingers. "Well, I sold my soul. Got a year to live. I ain't sweating the cholesterol."

Emmy tried not to pay too much attention to his comment and ran up to her uncle. "Uncle Bobby!" She jumped in his arms, lifted her feat in the air and hugged the rugged man tightly.

"Someone's happy to see me," Bobby chuckled gruffly. He tightened his arms around her before putting her down. "I see the cast finally came off."

"Yup! I can finally do this again," she bent through her knees and jumped as high as she could.

"Emmy, what did the doctor say," Dean chastised. "Easy, take it easy."

The girl rolled her eyes, earning a ruffle to her hair from Bobby. "Hey!" she protested. She hated when they did that.

Sam walked over to them with his hands in his pockets. "So, Bobby, what do you think? We got a biblical plague here or what?"

"Well, let's find out. Looks like the swarm's ground zero." Bobby smiled down at Emmy when she linked her arm with his as they made their way up to the porch of the house.

Dean pounded on the door. "Candygram!" There was no sound but the cicadas chirping. The oldest Winchester did what he did best and started picking the lock, opening the door. A foul stench nearly knocked him off his feet as they covered their noses in disgust.

"That's awful," Emmy's voice sounded muffled through the collar of her jacket.

"That so can't be a good sign," Dean repeated his previous statement as he drew out his gun. "Emmy, stay here."

"It's not like I _wanna_ go in there." Not if she wanted to throw up.

Dean entered first with Sam right on his heels, followed by Bobby. They crept through the house, batting away the swarm of flies. The stench was unbearable, practically forcing bile up their throats. As they entered the second room, they suddenly stopped at what sounded like panicked screams.

"You hear that?" Sam questioned, motioning for them to follow him.

They kicked open a door to find out that the sounds were coming from a television set. The increased stench made them dry heave, but the sight was enough to actually make them puke. What seemed like a family of three was seated on the couch, obviously dead for quite a while now.

"Oh, my god," Sam groaned. "Bobby, what the hell happened here?"

Bobby recoiled. "I don't know."

"Check for sulfur," Dean told them, taking charge.

The three of them started investigating the room for possible clues or signs. Dean was the first to hear a noise out front and whistled quietly to signal the others that he was going to check it out. It probably just was his sister.

" _Hey_!"

The alarm in Emmy's voice made the hair on the back of his neck stand. The voices of two other people proved that something was going on. Bobby and Sam circled around the other direction, while Dean quickened his pace towards the front. He exited cautiously, gun drawn, and looked around for possible threats. His first instinct was to find his sister, when his green eyes finally found her, his blood ran cold when he saw she was being held back by an unknown woman.

"Let her go, right now!"

Emmy's eyes widened in alarm and pointed at something behind him. "Dean, watch out!"

Before her brother could act, the other man with the rifle in his hand had already knocked him to the ground.

Bobby chose that moment to appear from the side. He had heard the commotion and was prepared for a fight but let his guard down when he recognized the couple. "Isaac? Tamara?"

Upon seeing the old man, Tamara let her arms drop. Emmy used the distraction and ran to Sam who had joined them, too.

"Bobby. What the hell are you doing here?" Tamara wanted to know.

"I could ask the same," he said, adjusting his hat.

Isaac put his own gun down. "Heya, Bobby."

Sam checked his sister over, making sure she was okay, before watching the scene in front of him with pure confusion. Did Bobby know these people?

Dean, still on the ground, raised an arm pitifully and waved it for attention. "Hello. Bleeding here."

 **SPN**

Emmy was playing on her phone while she waited in boredom. They were currently at Isaac and Tamara's place. The couple was explaining something to Sam, and Dean was in the other room talking to someone on the phone. By the sounds of it, it was more like flirting.

"Jenny! That is a beautiful name. That's my sister's name, actually."

Emmy turned around to face her brother.

Dean noticed and winked.

Refraining from rolling her eyes, she got back to her game of Tetris. The table jostled a bit when Bobby took a seat next to her. Emmy sighed, knowing what was coming next. Another interrogation.

"How're you holdin' up, huh?"

Not bothering to reply, she simply gave him a thumbs up without even letting go of her phone.

Bobby leaned a bit closer and whispered, "You still got that book I gave you?"

"Yeah …? You want it back?"

"Oh no, it's yours. Just make sure those idjits don't find it."

Emmy smiled – a real, genuine smile. "Don't worry, I hid it where I put my secret stash of candy."

"Good." Bobby chuckled. He threw a look around before scooting closer to her and spoke in a hushed tone, "How about next time you come to my place, I teach you some more about it."

Emmy's eyes grew like saucers, she couldn't already contain her excitement. She was a bit surprised though, she had thought he'd force her to talk about her thoughts and feelings, not suggest to show her the ways of hunting.

"That would be so cool," she grinned.

Bobby flashed her a secret smile. "Not a word."

"Not a word." As if she'd ever tell her brothers.

Isaac's heavy footsteps sounded through the hallway before he entered the room. "Honey? Where's the Palo Santo?"

Tamara turned away from Sam. "Well, where'd you leave it?"

"I don't know, dear. That's why I'm asking."

Sam drew his eyebrows together. "Palo Santo?"

"It's holy wood from Peru," Tamara explained. "It's toxic to demons like holy water. Keeps the bastards nailed down while you're exorcising them." She dug into a bag and pulled out a large, pointed stake. She handed it to Isaac with an affectionate smile. "You'd lose your head if it wasn't for me."

Sam watched the couple closely. It seemed like forever since he had someone look at him the way Tamara looked at Isaac. And it seemed like forever since he'd last held Jessica.

"So, how long you two been married?" he asked curiously.

Tamara watched her husband fondly. "Eight years this past June."

Isaac gave her a knowing smile. "The family that slays together..."

"Right. I'm with you there," Sam said with a tight lipped smile. "So, how'd you get started?" He didn't expect the uncomfortable silence that followed and instantly regretted his words. "I, uh, you know... I'm sorry. It's not – that's none of my business."

Tamara waved a hand. "No, no. It's – it's all right."

Emmy exchanged a look with her brother. 'Awkward,' she mumbled.

As if on cue, Dean chose that moment to join them, still on the phone. "Well, Jenny, if you look as pretty as you sound, I'd love to have an ... 'appletini'." He pulled a face at the world, clearly not a fan of the drink. "Yeah. Call you." He hung up and addressed the group. "That was the coroner's tech."

Sam took a seat next to Bobby. "And?"

"Get this – that whole family, cause of death? Dehydration and starvation. There's no signs of restraint, no violence, no struggle. They just sat down and never got up."

Bobby grunted in confusion. "But there was a fully stocked kitchen just yards away."

Sam was equally confused. "Right. What is this, a demon attack?"

"If it is, it's not like anything I ever saw, and I've seen plenty."

Dean cleared his throat. "Well, what now? What should we do?"

"Uh, we're not gonna do anything."

Sam looked up at Isaac. "What do you mean?"

The man shifted on his feet as he watched the people in front of him, his eyes lingering a little too long on Emmy. "You guys seem nice enough, but this ain't Scooby-Doo and we don't play well with others."

"Well, I think we'd cover a lot more ground if we all worked together," Sam reasoned. They had as much right to handle this case as they did.

"No offense, but we're not teaming with the damn fools who let the Devil's Gate get opened in the first place."

"No offense?" Dean scoffed, his muscles bulged as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Emmy gently nudged her uncle under the table. She gave him that look that told him to please intervene before this situation escalated.

Tamara shot her husband an admonishing look. "Isaac. Like you've never made a mistake."

The man snorted. "Oh yeah, yeah. Locked my keys in the car, turned my laundry pink. Never brought on the end of the world, though."

"All right, that's enough," Dean chuckled, but anyone could see the humor was missing in his tone.

"Guys, this isn't helping," Sam tried to take the edge off the situation. "Dean – "

"Look," Isaac cut him off, "there are couple hundred more demons out there now. We don't know where they are, when they'll strike. There ain't enough hunters in the world to handle something like this. You brought war down on us – on all of us."

Tamara pulled her husband away. "Okay. that's quite enough testosterone for now."

Emmy watched as the couple left but Isaac's words kept replaying in her head. Not only did Dean bring Sam back, he opened the gates of hell and let something loose that wasn't meant to escape. War was coming and it was all because of her brother. She would be lying if she said she wasn't angry Dean made the deal in the first place, in her opinion he should've thought it through instead of making an impulsive decision. And by the looks of it, Dean already suffered from the consequences of his choice even though he was trying to play it off like it was nothing. But nightly escapades, hamburgers for breakfast and making jokes didn't hide the fact that everyday a piece of him died.

Emmy casted a look at her oldest brother. Their eyes met and at first neither of them looked away. Emmy could see it, she could see in those fleeting seconds how much this whole situation really affected him. He was just keeping up appearances, and she could see it. Dean blinked and suddenly the mask was back on, he looked away and mumbled something about taking a leak before turning away.

Emmy sighed. How could he expect her to open up if he won't even let her in?

 **SPN**

Emmy was in the car, hanging over the car window as she watched the scene in front of her. Some policemen were taking forensic evidence at the murder scene near the store. Emmy still couldn't believe how someone could kill someone over a pair of shoes. First there was the family that literally just sat there until they died, and now this. What the hell was happening?

"Your brothers already in the store?"

Emmy looked up at the familiar voice and couldn't help but laugh.

"What're you gigglin' at?" Bobby asked as he adjusted his suit.

"You look funny," she snickered. Emmy couldn't remember the last time she saw him so clean and dressed up. "For a moment I actually thought you were bald under that hat you always wear."

The deadpanned look he gave her was enough to set of another round of giggles.

"Can I touch it?"

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Oh come on, uncle Bobby."

"Fine." The man's shoulders dropped as he huffed. As much as he tried to, he could never say no to that little girl.

Emmy's lips curled in a victorious smile as she ran her fingers through his slicked back hair. To her surprise it kinda felt soft. "Hmm, I really thought you'd have more grey hairs. Looking good, uncle Bobby … I mean, for you age that is."

"What did I ever do to deserve such a heartwarming compliment," he grumbled as he pulled away, causing her to giggle again. "How long have they been in there?"

Emmy followed his gaze to the store and shrugged. "Twenty minutes or so."

"Alright, I better go in now."

"Good luck, Mr. Singer."

"Thank you, Miss Winchester."

 **SPN**

Sam rolled his eyes as he watched Dean chatting up a witness. He cleared his throat to catch his brother's attention. Dean excused himself but not before checking out the girl one last time

"Dean, what are you doing?"

"I'm comforting the bereaved. What are you doing?"

"Working," Sam pointed out, something that couldn't be said about his brother. "Dead body, possible demon attack – that kind of stuff."

Dean coughed pathetically. "Sam, I'm sorry. It's just, I don't have much time left, and, uh ... got to make every second count." That was a low blow and he knew it but something in his mind told him that he had every right to enjoy his last moments on earth.

It seemed to have worked because Sam looked chastened.

"Yeah, right. Sorry."

"Apology accepted," Dean started to say when someone caught his attention. "Whoa." He whistled. "Looking spiffy, Bobby. What were you, a G-man?"

Sam shot him an approving nod of his head. Bobby sure cleaned up nicely.

Bobby ignored the comment. "Attorney for the D.A.'s office. I just spoke to the suspect."

"So, what do you think? Is she possessed or what?" Sam wanted to know, hoping at least one of them had answers.

Bobby shook his head. "Don't think so. There's none of the usual signs – no blackouts, no loss of control. Totally lucid. Just, she really wanted those shoes. Spilled a glass of holy water on her just to be sure; nothing."

"Maybe she's just some random whack job", Dean suggested.

"If it had been an isolated incident, maybe, but first the family, now this?" Bobby didn't sound convinced. "I believe in a lot of things. Coincidence ain't one of them. Did you boys find anything around here?"

Sam ran a hand through his bangs. "No sulfur, nothing."

"Well, maybe something," Dean tilted his head towards a security camera in the ceiling. "See? I'm working."

 **SPN**

Bobby yawned, not even bothering to cover his mouth. They were in his car, staking out a bar for some time now.

"What time is it?" he asked Dean sitting next to him in the front.

Dean was watching the rearview mirror, his eyes on his little sister in the backseat. She was munching on some curled fries, listening to something on Sam's iPod while she played on her Nintendo. It bothered him to no end that she still wasn't talking to any of them. He could guess how she felt – angry, disappointed, let down – but he wanted to hear it from her.

"Hey," Bobby nudged him.

"Huh?"

"What time is it?"

Dean casted a look at his watch. "Seven past midnight."

"You sure this is the right place?"

Dean slid down his seat, trying to get comfortable. "No. But I spent all day canvassing this stupid town with this guy's stupid mug, and, supposedly, he drinks at this ... stupid bar."

Bobby didn't say anything else and continued staring out the window, not missing how the oldest Winchester's attention was back on the youngest one. It was clear that big brother was worrying about his little sister. Usually Bobby would force the two to drop the stubbornness and talk, but he felt like something more was going on and it might be a better thing to not intercede for the time being.

Emmy took off one earbud as she leaned over the front seat. "Can I have some water, please?"

Dean reached down to grab an unopened bottle but didn't give it to her straight away. "You want me to help you get comfortable back there?"

"I'm not tired," was her automatic response. It was such a typical thing for her to say, for some reason Emmy would never admit being tired.

"I didn't tell you to go to sleep, sweetheart, just thought you might wanna get cozy since we're gonna be here for a while."

"I'm alright."

She was starting to sound like a broken record. _I'm okay. I'm fine. I'm alright_. She was starting to sound like him.

"Can I have my water now?"

Dean handed her the bottle. He opened his mouth to say something but she had already put her earbud back in, her attention on her screen.

Bobby had been silent throughout the exchange but eventually decided to speak up. "She still not talking?"

Dean looked away from the rearview mirror to stare at the bar. "Nope."

"I already told Sam the same thing, just give her time."

Dean snorted. "We don't have time, Bobby."

"Don't get snippy with me. She's just a child, she's coping the only way she knows how to."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Not talking, avoiding the subject, pretending everything's just dandy – sound familiar?"

Dean's teeth clenched as he pressed his mouth against his propped up fist. Bobby was right, but that doesn't mean he had to admit it.

A sudden pounding on the window nearly made them jump out of their skin. Sam was grinning at their discomfort and slid into the backseat.

Emmy offered him some of her fries but he playfully tweaked her nose and declined.

"Uh, all right, so – so, John Doe's name is Walter Rosen. He's from Oak Park, just west of Chicago. Went missing about a week ago."

Dean turned in his seat to face his brother. "The night the Devil's Gate opened?"

"Yeah."

"So you think he's possessed?"

Sam scratched the back of his head. "Well, it's a good bet. So, what, he just walks up to someone, touches them, and they go stark raving psycho?"

They had watched the security footage and had seen how a man had touched the woman who later killed someone for a pair of shoes. It was the only lead they had so far.

"Those demons that got out at the gate – they're gonna do all kinds of things we haven't seen."

Sam raised an eyebrow at Bobby. "You mean the demons we let out."

"Guys." Dean pointed at something outside the bar.

The same redheaded man they had seen from the camera got out of his car and walked towards the bar.

"All right. Showtime."

Bobby stopped Dean with a hand on his arm. "Wait a minute."

"What?"

"What'd I just say? We don't know what to expect out of this guy. We should tail him till we know for sure."

Dean threw his hands up, exasperated. "Oh, so he kills someone and we just sit here with our junk in our hands?"

"We're no good dead!" he exclaimed. "And we're not gonna make a move until we know what the score is."

Emmy pulled her earbuds out at hearing the sudden commotion when she caught two familiar faces outside. "Hey, isn't that Tamara and Isaac?"

Everyone looked over to see the couple heading towards the bar.

"Damn it!" Bobby slammed his fists against the wheel.

"What's going on?" Emmy wondered out loud as she watched everyone jump in action. She knew her brothers and uncle had hoped to get to the man first and it seemed that the couple beat them to the punch.

"It's the redheaded guy. Tamara and Isaac are after him," Sam told her.

She could see through her window how Bobby and Dean tried to slam themselves against the door of the var, trying to force it open. But despite their efforts, it was all in vain. Even from the inside of the car, Emmy could hear the commotion inside of the bar followed by a bloodcurdling scream. She was unaware she had reached out to hold Sam's hand.

Bobby and Dean ran back to the car, making it jostle as they got in.

"Buckle up!" Bobby ordered.

Emmy and Sam put their seatbelts on and braced themselves as the tires of the car screeched. Bobby's foot pressed down on the pedal driving right through the front of the bar. Sam had spread his arms out in front of Emmy to cushion the impact.

The youngest Winchester looked around her in a mix of awe and shock. The bar was packed which was nothing out of the ordinary, until she saw the color of their eyes. She could make out Isaac in a chair, unresponsive with something running out of his mouth. Emmy swallowed hard, recognizing the lifeless look in his open eyes.

"Don't move," Sam warned. "Did you hear me?"

Not able to speak, she simply nodded.

Everything was happening so fast, Emmy's head was moving from side to side from the sudden riot. She caught Sam running towards a screaming Tamara. She could feel the woman's cries shooting straight to her heart. It brought tears to her eyes because she knew that emotion all too well, this was too close to home.

While Dean and Bobby did their best to fight off the demons, armed with holy water, Sam finally managed to drag Tamara to the backseat of the car with him sitting in the middle. Emmy felt so bad for her as she screamed for Isaac. She didn't deserve this. No one deserves to lose a loved one, especially not at the hands of a demon.

"Come on, we got to go! He's dead! Get in the car!" Sam urged after she still tried to get to her husband. "Dean come on! COME ON!" He yelled over the noise.

The car shook with every bump and shove. Emmy screamed when Dean pushed a redheaded man up against her window. The man attacked her brother but Dean threw his fist against the side of his face, splattering blood against the window. The man was grinning against the glass, his teeth colored pink from the blood. Emmy tried to look away but she was motionless. Dean finally overpowered the man and stuffed him the in the trunk, which was inscribed with a devil's trap.

Emmy could hear the redheaded man scream from the back and covered her ears while pinching her eyes closed. This was all too much – Tamara screaming, the dead bodies, the pairs of black eyes, the uproar, the blood and gore. Images of yellow eyes, a murderous sneer, her father's face, the way Azazel looked at her when she brought him to his knees – they all flashed before her eyes and it was just all too much.

Dean and Bobby tumbled into the car, panting and grunting. Dean hit the dashboard repeatedly. "Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go!"

They finally drove back out with the demons staring after them.

Sam was too busy trying to console Tamara as she wailed when he suddenly realized she wasn't the only crying. Turning around, his heart broke when he found his sister sobbing too.

"Oh Emmy, honey, honey, it's alright," he started to say, trying to get her to open her eyes and her hands away from her ears, but she wouldn't budge. "C'mon sweetie it okay, you're okay."

"What's wrong? Why is she crying?" Dean's voice was tinged with concern.

"She probably just got scared and panicked," Sam said as he took her seatbelt off to slide her closer to him. "Emmy look at me, look at me."

Dean reached over the front seat to give her a comforting touch. He squeezed her knee but it didn't seem to help.

Sam gathered her in his arms and let her cry against his shoulder. He managed to lower her hands and brought his lips close to her ear to whisper soothing words. "Shh, we got you, honey, we got you." He stroked her hair and rubbed her back as the sobs slowly subsided and the tears lessened.

"How's she doing back there?" Bobby asked, also worried. Dean had moved his hand up to hold hers, stroking the back of her hand with the pad of his thumb.

"She'll be fine," Sam murmured against her hair after pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. "Right, Emmy? You'll be just fine," he added, more to himself than anyone else.

Dean caught his eye and his expression said it all. ' _She's not fine_.'

' _I know_.'

 **SPN**

"And I say we're going back – now!" Tamara's loud voice echoed against the walls of her house.

"Just hold on a second!" Sam, always the peacekeeper.

"I left my husband bloody on the floor!"

"Okay, I understand that, but we can't go back."

"Fine. Then you stay. But I'm heading back to that bar."

"I'll go with her," Dean spoke up.

Sam was baffled. "It's suicide, Dean!"

"So what? I'm dead already!"

Bobby sighed and closed the door, blocking the fussing and fighting. He made his way to the kitchen and grabbed a class to fill it with some water.

"You also tired of the bickering?" he asked, turning to the little girl sitting at the window.

Emmy hugged her knees to her chest as she stared ahead, looking at nothing in particular.

Bobby gently squeezed her shoulder before placing the glass of water next to her on the table. "You know you can always come to me if you need anything."

Emmy blinked tiredly. "Just wanna be left alone for a bit, if that's okay," she mumbled against her knees.

" … Yeah, sure. Whatever you want." Bobby wanted to say more but knew it was futile.

Emmy heard the door close behind her and exhaled through her nose. She could still hear their loud voices in the other room as they got in another argument but she learned to ignore the noise. She suddenly felt so tired and drained, wishing she could just lay somewhere quiet and calm. Somewhere no one could bother her or ask her how she was holding up, how she was feeling.

 _Gabriel? Gabriel, where are you?_

After the night they killed Azazel, Emmy hoped things had changed for the better, but she'd never been so wrong in her life. And she never needed the angel this much. She wanted him to give her the answers she desperately needed. Can Gabriel save Dean? Can he help them break the deal? Can he tell her what the hell happened that night? How did she manage to stand up against Yellow Eyes? Where did that power suddenly come from? Where was her Dad now? How was she supposed to deal with the fact that John wasn't her father?

Questions, questions, questions, questions – that's how her life's always been, an enigma, a search for answers nobody seemed to have.

For the first time ever, she genuinely felt scared. Scared for Dean, scared for Sam – everything was such a mess and she was just so scared.

"Gabriel?" She tried again but the sound of her voice was barely audible over the loud voices coming from across the closed kitchen door.

 **SPN**

"The seven deadly sins, live and in the flesh."

Both the Winchester brothers and Tamara looked at Bobby with an awaiting expression, as if expecting him to crack a joke.

"What's in the box?" Dean grinned but the only reaction he got was silence. "Brad Pitt? Se7en? No?" Bobby tossed him a book, shutting him up. "What's this?"

"Binsfeld's Classification of Demons. In 1589, Binsfeld ID'd the seven sins – not just as human vices but as actual devils."

The wheel's in Sam's head started turning. "The family – they were touched by Sloth. And the shopper..."

"That's Envy's doing," Bobby finished, glad they were catching up. "The customer we got in the next room. I couldn't suss it out at first, until Isaac. He was touched with an awful Gluttony."

"I don't give a rat's ass if they're the Three Stooges or the Four Tops!" Tamara snapped. "I'm gonna slaughter every last one of them!"

"We already did it your way. You burst in there half-cocked and look what happened!" Bobby confronted her, receiving the stink eye in return. "These demons haven't been topside in half a millennium! We're talking medieval, Dark Ages! We've never faced anything close to this! So we are gonna take a breath..." He paused to let his words sink in, "And figure out what our next move is." He turned to Tamara, his face softening. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Her face crumbled and she walked out of the room without another word.

"I'm gonna check up on Emmy," Dean said in an attempt to escape the tension in the room.

"Don't bother. She wants to be left alone," Bobby said.

"She's ten. She doesn't know what she wants." Dean didn't mean to snap or sound hostile, but he it starting to work on his nerves when others would tell him how to deal with his own sister, his own flesh and blood. They didn't raise that girl, they didn't know her like he did. Who were they to decide what he should or shouldn't do?

Sam wanted to stop his brother but decided against it. If Dean made up his mind about something then you might as well give up because nothing could get through that thick skull of his.

 **SPN**

Dean wiped his sweaty hands on his jean clad legs, he didn't realize how much this whole situation was stressing him out. As he entered the kitchen, something pulled at his heartstrings – his sister looked so small and vulnerable, it reminded him yet again of the fact that she was still just a child in a dangerous world filled with monsters and bad people.

"Hey sweetheart." He walked around her, his hand on top of her head.

Emmy didn't look up from where she buried her face in her knees. "I told Bobby to leave me alone."

"I know." Dean pulled a chair from under the table, taking a seat. "What's going on, huh? Talk to me. And none of that _I'm fine_ crap, you know we never buy that."

"I don't know," she muttered.

He cocked an eyebrow. "You don't know or you don't wanna tell me?"

Emmy sighed, finally looking up to gaze back at her brother. "It was nothing, everything was just so overwhelming … I overreacted."

"You didn't overreact and I'm sorry. If we hadn't dragged you with us, this wouldn't've happened. We should've paid more attention." Dean grabbed her chair, dragging it closer to him until their knees touched. "Emmy, I know you're going through hell right now, but you need to learn to talk, baby. You can't keep bottling this up. Trust me of all people, I know how hard it is to open up but what you're doing right now is gonna destroy you in the long run."

Emmy felt drawn to his piercing eyes but looked away, it was too intense and she felt like he could see right through her.

"I'm not ready," she whispered with a little tremble in her voice. There was so much she wanted to say, so many stuff she wanted to know but couldn't put into words.

"That's okay, that's okay Emmy." Dean tucked some hair behind her ear, briefly cupping her cheek. "We'll take it step by step."

Emmy nodded. She could do that, little by little, at her own pace.

"We'll figure this out, Emmy, I promise we will."

Dean ducked his head to catch her eye and smiled. Emmy knew what he was trying to do and bit the inside of her cheek.

Dean chuckled. "Where're does dimples? C'mon show me." He poked her cheek until she cracked a little smile. "Ah, there it is. Thought I'd never see those again." Dean couldn't stop grinning, happy he at least got a smile out of her. "You feeling better now?"

Emmy nodded. "Yeah."

"Good. Now where's my reward?" he asked with his arms wide open. Emmy giggled before throwing herself at him. Dean breathed out as he hugged her closely, rubbing her back up and down. He didn't realize how much he had missed this until now.

Emmy buried her face in his neck. It was so hard to keep the tears back. She didn't want to think of only having less than a year left to hold him like this …

The siblings both pulled away when they heard a scream from somewhere in the house. Tamara's voice rose as she recited the Latin incantations for the exorcism.

"I heard you guys were dealing with the seven sins," Emmy said. "Which one is he?"

"Envy," Dean answered just as Bobby and Sam joined them.

Sam gently and playfully tugged at her ponytail, his way of asking how she was feeling. Emmy offered him a small smile.

"Did he say what they want?" Dean asked.

Bobby treated himself with a beer. "They already have what they want. They're out, they're free. They're celebrating, having fun."

" _Fun_. What kinda fun?" Dean was almost too scared to ask.

"They like to see people's insides … on their outside," Sam repeated the demon's exact words, cringing at the bad taste it left in his mouth.

"I don't think we're gonna have to worry about hunting them."

Sam turned to Bobby. "What does that mean?"

"I think maybe this joker's right. They're gonna be hunting us. And they're not gonna quit easy."

Dean wet his lips. "You guys, why don't you take Tamara and Emmy and head for the hills? I'll stay back, slow them down, buy you a little time."

Emmy's face twisted in disbelief. "Dean, what? No! Sammy say something."

"You're insane, Dean. Just forget about it, okay?" Sam was sick of his brother constantly sacrificing himself, just because he was dying didn't mean he suddenly had to give up so easily.

"Sam's right," Bobby agreed.

"There's six of them, guys," Dean argued. "We're outmanned, we're outgunned. We'll be dead by dawn."

"Maybe, but ... there's no place to run that they won't find us."

Sam huffed. "Look, if we're going down, we're going down together, all right?"

Dean got to his feet. "Well let's not make it easy for them."

From the other room, Envy gave a final scream causing the house to shake. A gust of wind blew out the few candles they had lit, even Emmy's hair flew in her face.

A few seconds later, Tamara entered, her face hard. "Demon's out of the guy," she said with a lack of emotion. "He didn't make it."

 **SPN**

"I don't like this idea," Emmy said for the hundredth time, pacing the room.

Dean was seated on the floor with a row of candles behind him, loading a shotgun. Sam was across the room, filling flasks with holy water. The two brothers looked over at each other, each silent. Their sister was right, this wasn't their best idea. And maybe they had a choice, they could leave and let someone else deal with it. But this was different, this was their own doing – their fault, their mistake, so they had to fix this.

Meanwhile Emmy unknowingly bit her nails. "Can I help? I can do something, maybe I can – I don't know, maybe I can – what if I – "

"Emmy, we talked about this," Sam told her softly. "It'll be alright." He didn't know who he was trying to convince more, his sister or himself.

"Do you guys wanna die?"

"Of course not." Dean gave her a knowing look. She knew that this wasn't the case, it wasn't so simple.

"Doesn't look like it," she snapped.

"Look, I understand you're angry," he started to say when she cut him off.

"Angry? I'm pissed!"

"Hey, watch your mouth," Sam chastised but his words fell on deaf ears.

"Just an hour ago I thought you'd figure this out, going on a suicide mission isn't ' _figuring things out_ '."

"I made a promise to you Emmy and I'll keep it," Dean reminded her. "When have I ever broke a promise to you?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

 _Ouch._

Was that a trick question? Emmy couldn't even tell where to begin. Both her brothers made plenty of empty promises and let's nor forget the many lies and secrets.

Dean gritted his teeth. He fell in his own trap.

"The basement's set up," Tamara said, entering the living room. "I put two extra locks on it, demon-proofed the whole place. It's safe."

As if on cue the light suddenly started to flicker. And old radio suddenly sparked to life, playing the beginnings of a scratchy recording.

Dean cocked his shotgun before standing. "Here we go."

"Emmy, go with Bobby. Don't open the door until we say so."

Realizing her brothers were in hunter modus, Emmy knew there was no way she could make them change their minds.

"Be careful," she said quietly, not staying long enough to see their reaction, and followed Bobby to the basement where she would stay until this was over. Who knew how long it was going to take – two, three hours, maybe all night. Either way, by the end of the night, she knew she'd have no nails left.

 **SPN**

There was nothing worse than hearing your own family suffer, not knowing if they'd make it out alive. And all you could do was listen and pray they'd be alright.

Emmy fiddled with the strings of her hoodie, chewing on the ends in pure anxiousness and worry. She startled when she heard a gunshot and screams. Something hard banged against the ceiling above her head causing the lightbulb to flicker. Even some dust trickled down making her cough and rub her eyes.

She wanted to help her brothers so bad but knew there was nothing she could do. If anything she'd make everything worse. She was bound to get one of them hurt, or even worse.

"Wait a minute."

Emmy came up with a sudden idea.

"Gabriel!" She knew Bobby told her to stay quiet but she didn't care, with all the ruckus upstairs she was sure they couldn't even hear her. "Gabriel! Either you come down or I'll leave this basement and get myself hurt!" It was the only threat she could think of at the moment. "I'll give you ten seconds!" As she started the count down, Emmy gradually made her way up the stairs. Tamara made sure the locks were attached on the inside so no one could get in from the outside. Emmy was the only one who had the key.

"Gabriel? Last chance. I swear to god I'll do it." Something told her that maybe the angel thought she was bluffing. He wouldn't really appear until she was in a life-threatening situation.

Emmy closed her eyes, contemplating her next move.

 **SPN**

While Dean was fighting Lust and Bobby Sloth, Sam was being cornered by Pride. The demon was dressed in a business suit, advancing confidently as Sam backed up. Pride held a hand up to hold back the two demons flanking him. Sam was momentarily confused until the demon looked up to the devil's trap on the ceiling with a smirk.

"Come on. You really think something like that is gonna fool someone like me? I mean, _me_?"

"Let me guess – you're Pride."

Pride grinned and gestured to the ceiling. A long splitting crack appeared, destroying the symbol.

Sam cursed under his breath.

"Hmm. The root of all sin. And you ... are Sam Winchester." Sam wished his eyes didn't betray the flicker of surprise but the demon had noticed already. "That's right, I've heard of you. We've all heard of you. The prodigy. The boy king. Overrated much."

Sam's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. This demon could end him with a snap of his fingers. He had to quickly think of something which was even harder when you're under lot of pressure.

The demon looked around, as if searching for something. "Where's the little one?"

Sam swallowed hard. He hoped to God the demon wasn't talking about the same person he had in mind.

"What's her name again? Emma? No, that wasn't it." The demon tapped his chin, pretending to think hard before he clapped his hands together. "Ah! Emmy, that's more like it. Cute kid."

If looks could kill, Pride would've been rotting in hell by now. Sam knew he was baiting him, testing him, but he wasn't going to bite. He got pride too.

"Oh, she's not here? Well that's a shame. Legend says your yellow-eyed friend couldn't stand up against a little girl, so I was really looking forward to meet her. And now with Azazel dead, I guess you're both fair game now," he grinned slowly, "and it's open season."

Sam couldn't contain his anger no longer and attacked the demon to the ground but unfortunately wasn't fast enough. Pride pulled him up with an arm wrapped around his throat, strangling him, when suddenly someone burst through the door.

"Hey!" Standing at the doorframe was a young girl armed with just a bottle of holy water.

"EMMY!" Sam couldn't believe his own eyes. Was she out of her goddamn mind?! This reminded him of that time she stood up against the hellhounds. He had nearly felt what a heart attack was like and he was sure if she kept up like that, he would for sure die.

Pride laughed, a smile plastered on his face stretching from cheek to cheek. "There you are! I'm so happy you decided to join the party."

Emmy was unsure of what to say, looking between her brother and the demon. Where the hell was Gabriel?

Sam threw the demon off of him, landing another blow to his face. The demon fought back, dragging him up against the wall by his throat again.

The demon cackled maniacally, watching Sam wheeze and suffocate. "Look at you, I got to tell you – don't believe the hype. You think I'm gonna bow to a cut-rate, piss-poor human like you?" His hand tightened, cutting off his airways. "I have my pride, after all."

Emmy lifted up the glass bottle high in the air and smashed it as hard as she could against the back of his head. The demon let go of her brother, dropping to the floor and screaming in agony as the holy water burned his skin. He was too proud to bow, but at least she got him on his knees.

Using the distraction to her advantage, Emmy quickly got to her brother. She helped him get up while he coughed, taking in as much air as he could. There was some blood on his temple and she tried to wipe it away with her sleeve but he pushed her behind him, almost squishing her against the wall.

"Stay behind me," he panted.

Pride got back to his feet with smoke still protruding from his burnt skin. He sniffed and laughed. It reminded Emmy of a psycho gone mad. Maybe she shouldn't've done that, it looks like she only set him off, angering him even more.

Fisting the back of her brother's jacket, Emmy was a bundle of nerves, blubbering incomprehensible apologies. "I-I'm so sorry, S-Sammy. I'm really sorry, I-I-I didn't – I don't know why I even did that – "

Pride's laughter grew louder, sending a shiver up her spine. "You nearly burned _my_ face off, and you're apologizing for saving _him_? You Winchesters are something else."

"Stay back." Sam's arm flew behind him, holding his sister close and using his body to cover her as best as he could. Pride's smile was taunting him, his eyes twinkling with something sinister. "I said stay back."

Emmy pressed her face in her brother's back when she felt something poking at her cheek. She realized Sam's gun was still in the back of his pants. Slowly sliding her hand under his jacket, she tried to grab the weapon without the demon noticing.

"You know, if Yellow Eyes was so hell bent on keeping you two for himself … That means he saw potential in you." His black and empty eyes trailed up and down the siblings. "Mhmm, interesting. Let's explore! Who wants to go first?" he sounded way too excited it was frightening.

Sam just hoped the gun was loaded as he felt his sister retrieve it for him. The demon was talking too much for his liking, but he could use all the time he got so for once he was glad he was stalling.

"Eeny, meeny, miny moe. Catch a tiger by the toe. If he hollers, let him go." The demon wiggled his hand between the two. "Eeny. Meeny. Miny. Moe." His finger landed on Sam and his lips curled into a creepy smile.

Just as he lunged at the middle Winchester, Emmy passed the gun to her brother and Sam managed to shoot him right in the middle of his chest. It was just rock salt, it wouldn't defeat the demon but it could slow him down.

Sam grabbed his sister's hand to get the hell out of there but Pride had other plans. The demon roared as he flung Sam across the room with just a flick of his wrist. Sam felt like the air was knocked out of his lungs and couldn't breathe let alone move.

Emmy plastered herself against the wall, eyes wide and lips trembling when the demon started for her. She was frozen, unable to think straight. She felt so vulnerable and helpless.

"Where's big brother now?" Pride sneered. He put his hand out and motioned for her to move forward.

Not knowing what to do, Emmy was nailed to the ground. It wasn't until she saw his confused expression that she realized he was using an invisible force to pull her to him. His black eyes snapped up at her and it was clear he couldn't understand why she wasn't reacting to his power.

He didn't seem to like that and growled as he lunged for her. Out of reflex she closed her eyes, her entire body tensing up. She expected a blow or anything but only felt something wet on her face followed by a gargled sound.

Opening one eye at the time, Emmy nearly threw up right there and then at the sight. The pointy end of a knife was sticking out of the demon's mouth. He sputtered, blood seeping through his open lips and she felt sick realizing what the wet feeling was on her own face. For a second Emmy saw a pair of brown eyes and knew that this was the poor man who Pride possessed. A fiery light appeared where the knife was showing before he collapsed in a shower of sparks and demonic smoke.

"Who the hell are you?" Sam demanded, trying to catch his breath. He winced as he got to his feet, stumbling to his sister, shielding her.

"I'm the girl that just saved your ass," a blonde woman said.

It was then that Emmy snapped out of her daze. She wanted to thank the lady but was still too much in shock to form any words.

"Thanks," Sam breathed.

She chuckled. "See you around, Sam and Emmy."

"Wait!" Sam tried to stop her but she was already gone.

"I think I'm gonna puke." The words barely got out before Emmy threw up.

"You're in so much trouble, young lady," Sam scolded as he rubbed her back. This was just the first part of her punishment.

 **SPN**

Sam and Dean had just finished piling the corpses of the demons into a shallow pit several yards away. They were both watching the smoke flying up in the air from where the bodies were burning. Not too far away was a funeral pyre where Isaac's body lay. Tamara was weeping, her soft cries echoing against the trees.

Sam leaned against the Impala next to his older brother. "Think she's gonna be all right?"

"No. Definitely not."

"I meant Emmy."

Dean turned to follow his brother's gaze to where Emmy was sitting with Bobby on his trunk. She was hugging herself, pulling a face in disgust when their surrogate uncle forced some weird looking drink down her throat for quick recovery. Poor thing. She had changed into some clean clothes after spending almost an hour washing off her face. She was convinced the blood would never come off.

"What the hell was she thinking?" Dean really couldn't understand what she was trying to achieve with the stunt she pulled. "I bet she wasn't even thinking in the first place."

Sam snorted. "She wanted to save her family. Runs in the family, huh?"

Dean slowly shook his head in exasperation. "For the first time in my life I have no idea what I'm doing," he admitted, referring to their little sister. He always used to know how to get to her, but now he felt like he had no hold on her. He thought he got through to her but she just proved his words didn't mean a thing. Was she even listening to the things he said?

"She's not a gullible child anymore. She's starting to develop a growing sense of independence and with it a growing confidence to solve problems, like she just demonstrated. We've all been through this stage, Dean."

"Psychology at Stanford payed off, huh," Dean teased.

"Shut up," Sam shot back with a small smile on his lips. "This year's gonna be hard on all of us, especially on her, let's just not forget that."

 _It's all I ever think about_ , Dean thought as he watched Bobby and Emmy walk over to them.

Bobby cleared his throat, giving Emmy a meaningful look. The ten year old's face spoke volumes, she was not happy at all. She reluctantly handed her Nintendo, iPod and phone to her brothers.

"You can keep this, but only for emergencies." Sam warned as he gave her back her phone.

Emmy shifted on her feet, looking down at her shoes, hoping that there wasn't more. She got sick, threw up and got covered in blood – wasn't that enough punishment?

Bobby nudged her gently.

Emmy wished she could roll her eyes right now but knew she wouldn't get off lightly.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "I'm sorry for leaving the basement." She looked up to meet her uncle's eyes, he motioned for her to continue. "I'm sorry for putting myself in danger and almost getting Sam hurt, too."

"And," Bobby pushed.

"And I won't do it again."

Sam and Dean looked at each other, doing that thing where they'd talk with no words.

"A month," Dean said.

Emmy's jaw dropped. "Four weeks?!"

"You prefer five?" he challenged.

"No!" she protested. "Four's fine."

"Bobby, that knife – what kind of blade can kill a demon?" Sam suddenly said.

Emmy was glad the attention was no longer on her and moved to stand next to Dean. Her oldest brother pulled her in front of her and hugged her from behind. Emmy held his arms around her shoulders and knew they were no longer angry with her, or maybe just less angry.

The rugged man rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yesterday, I would have said there was no such thing."

"I'm just gonna ask it again – who was that masked chick?" Dean wanted to know. "Actually, the more troubling question would be, how come a girl can fight better than you?"

Emmy couldn't help but giggle, receiving a playful pinch on her side from Sam.

"Yeah, well, if you want a troubling question, I got one for you."

Dean turned to his brother. "What's that?"

"If we let out the seven deadly sins, what else did we let out?"

 **SPN**

After they had all said goodbye to each other, everyone went their own way. Emmy was yet again in the backseat of the Impala, her home, her safe haven. She was on her back, staring up at the roof of the car as she watched the street lights creating funny shadows. She thought of Tamara, how she had to live without the love of her life. She thought of Bobby, how he got dragged into their mess again. She thought of Gabriel, how he had given up on her. Emmy didn't blame him, he probably left too … it was just a matter of time because no one ever stayed. She got used to it but it didn't mean it hurt less.

"Listen, I was talking to Tamara, and she mentioned this hoodoo priestess outside of Shreveport that might be able to help us out. You know, with your – with your demon deal."

Emmy strained her ears when Sam spoke up.

"Nah."

"Nah? What does that mean, nah?"

That's what Emmy wanted to know, too.

Dean's knuckles briefly whitened as he tightened his hands around the wheel. "Sam, no hoodoo spell's gonna break this deal, all right? It's a goose chase."

"Yeah, but we don't know that, Dean—"

"Yes, we do," Dean cut Sam off. "Forget it. She can't help."

"Look, it's worth —"

"We're not going, and that's that," his voice was firm.

Emmy pushed her bottom to her teeth, thinking. There had to be a way to grab a hold of Gabriel. There was no way that the angel simply disappeared without a trace. Maybe Bobby's book could help her. Either way, there was nothing an angel couldn't do. If Gabriel managed to get her father out of hell, he probably could keep her brother out of hell, too.

"You know what?" Sam suddenly said after a moment of silence. "I've had it. I've been bending over backwards trying to be nice to you, and I don't care anymore."

"That didn't last long," Dean responded dryly.

"Yeah, well, you know what? I've been busting my ass trying to keep you alive, Dean, and you act like you couldn't care less."

"No, it's not like that." Dean really wished his brother wouldn't go there.

"He's right," Emmy suddenly piped up. "What, you got some kind of death wish or something?"

Dean snapped his eyes up to glare at her through the rearview mirror. "Emmy, I told you to go to sleep!"

"How am I supposed to sleep when you two are talking so loud. And don't change the subject."

Dean ran a frustrating hand down his face. He could feel both his siblings' eyes on him and knew they wouldn't let go until they got their answer.

"We trap the crossroads demon, trick it, try to welch our way out of the deal in any way?" He glanced at his brother out of the corner of his eye. "You die. Okay? You die. Those are the terms. There's no way out of it. If you try to find a way, so help me god, I'm gonna stop you."

Emmy was rendered speechless.

"How could you make that deal, Dean?" Sam said after the words sunk in.

"'Cause I couldn't live with you dead. Couldn't do it."

Sam scoffed. "So, what, now I live and you die?"

"That's the general idea, yeah."

"Yeah, well, you're a hypocrite, Dean. How did you feel when Dad sold his soul for you? 'Cause I was there. I remember. You were twisted, and broken. And now you go and do the same thing. To me." His nostrils flared in anger. How could his brother save him and then expect from him to do nothing when he was the one needing to be saved? "What you did was selfish. Have you ever once stopped to think what that would do to Emmy?"

"She has you, Sam!"

"Sammy's gonna leave, too," Emmy said more to herself but apparently she wasn't quiet enough.

"Don't say that, Emmy, and please, please go to sleep, sweetheart," Dean practically begged.

Sam turned in his seat to face her. "I'm not gonna leave you, Emmy. Why would you even think that?"

"I just know." Emmy shrugged, looking away from her brother's questioning look and focusing on stroking the fur of her teddy bear.

"I'm not gonna leave, Emmy."

"Sam, she doesn't mean it alright," Dean said. This conversation was getting out of hand. Truth is, he was tired. And after everything he sacrificed for his family, he felt entitled. He deserved to finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, there was nothing keeping him here on earth. His siblings were his life but he brought them in danger more than he protected them from it.

"I got a year to live. I'd like to make the most of it. So what do you say we kill some evil sons of bitches and we raise a little hell, huh?"

Dean shot his siblings a smile but got no response. Instead he turned on the radio, loud enough to drown everyone's loud thoughts.

Emmy caught Sam's eye through the side mirror and knew they were thinking the same. They were going to break Dean out of that deal no matter what it took. If their oldest brothers was prepared to sacrifice his own life for them, then the only thing they could do was return the favor. All Dean ever did was give and give and give, it was time to make him see he was worthy to deserve something back, too.

 ** _A/N: Hello beautiful people! How are you all doing? Please tell me I'm not the only one melting, I know I wished for more sun but this is a bit too much hahhah xd_**

 ** _So we officially started off season 3, I hope you're as excited as I am! Make sure to let me know what you thought of this chapter. I struggled a bit because I wasn't sure how Emmy should deal with the whole ordeal. I have so many ideas and so many things I wanna write but I need to take things slowly, there's still a lot of chapters to come. Please don't forget that Emmy isn't just a normal ten year old, she's special and has been through a lot. Her way of coping might seem unusual at times but I really want to explore her emotions and reactions. This is all very new to me too, so please keep that in mind. But if you have any constructive criticism, I'm all ears!_**

 ** _Anyway, please check out my tumblr for some pictures and my new cover for BR(OK)EN. Also if you have any ideas, please let me know. Someone asked me to write a scene with Emmy having a nightmare, I'll try to add this one in the next chapter. If you got any other suggestions, shoot :)_**

 ** _Also thanks for the follows, favorites and reviews, it really makes me sooooo happy to see how many of you still read this. You guys truly are the best, xxxxxxxxx_**

 ** _Ps: I don't know if I've said this before, but in order to understand my stories you really need to watch the episodes first. I received some pm's asking me questions about stuff I didn't mention or didn't explain well enough for different reasons. So please watch the show before you read my stories, it'll make a lot more sense. And trust me you won't regret it, SUPERNATURAL = BEST SHOW EVER!_**


	3. The Kids Are Alright

**_IMPORTANT A/N: Hello my beautiful readers! First let me apologize for the very long wait, I know I promised an update sooner than this but hear me out. I got married :) Yes, my husband (still sounds weird every time I say it) and I got married a month ago, we also moved and I started my new job, so life got pretty hectic. I'll try my best to make some time to write, but I won't promise anything. I haven't given up on the story, I just can't guarantee that updates will be as frequent as they used to be. If I'm taking too long, please don't refrain from sending me messages – I receive and read each one of them._**

 ** _I'm sure some of you missed Emmy, believe me I missed her too ;)_**

 ** _Enjoy!_**

Emmy watched her brother's outstretched hand and bit the inside of her cheek. She wasn't a kid anymore and she was convinced she was old enough to cross the streets without assistance.

"I'm eleven now, Dean. I don't need your help to get to the other side of the street."

 _Not this again,_ Dean thought. Lately it's all she ever did – claiming to be old enough to do anything. At first he thought it was a phase or maybe even puberty and that it would be temporarily. Only Emmy seemed persistent to remind them every chance she got that she wasn't a child anymore. That didn't bode well with Dean, not because she thought she was big enough to be independent, but because at the end of the day she _was_ still a child. She already had to grow up too fast and much of her childhood was already traumatic enough, it wasn't fair to her. Why couldn't she just be a kid for a bit longer?

"First of, you're eleven in three weeks. And second, just hold my hand, Emmy," he said, his tone betraying the fact that he had no time to discuss this again.

Emmy crossed her arms over her chest. "No, it's embarrassing."

Dean scoffed. "Too bad for you, now gimme your hand." She didn't make a move to comply and he sighed. "I got all day, sweetheart. I'm not crossing that street until you do as I say."

"Well, I got all day too." That wasn't entirely true, but Emmy kept that part to herself. She was hungry, needed to pee, and her leg ached again from walking too much, still not entirely recovered after she had taken off her cast. Dean didn't need to know about that though.

She watched as her brother leaned against the trunk of the car, his biceps bulging as he crossed his arms. He shot her an awaiting look that said he had all the patience of the world.

Emmy twisted the top of her foot into the gravel, her hands behind her back. The pressure on her bladder intensified with every passing second. She casted a sideway glance at Dean and saw that he indeed had all the patience of the world.

She took the risk to move one step ahead but he instantly noticed.

"Uh-uh," he clicked his tongue.

"Dean," she whined. "Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"

"You're the one making a big deal out this."

"I really need to go to the bathroom."

He shrugged. "The ball is in your court. You know what to do."

She groaned, knowing she was about to lose this one.

She wriggled her nose as she looked up at him – she knew he was hard to crack sometimes but she still had her secret weapon.

Puppy dog eyes.

"That's not gonna work, Emmy," he said, even though he made a point of looking away.

"Fine!"

He cocked an eyebrow, as if waiting for her to take the next step.

She huffed and stretched out her hand in defeat. Dean stared at her hand, pretending not knowing what to do with it. _Oh he was really rubbing it in now,_ Emmy thought. She suppressed an eye roll and grabbed his hand, pulling him off the car.

A small smirk of victory tugged at his lips as he grabbed the newspaper from the car. "Alright, here we go then." He made a show of checking his watch. "Two minutes, I thought you'd last longer."

"I really need to pee," was her defense.

"Yeah right."

As soon as they had crossed the street, she released his hand and marched towards the diner where they had met up with Sam. Dean watched her go and couldn't ignore the pang in his chest – he knew she wasn't walking away from him, but he couldn't help but feel like it. Is this what happens to little girls growing up, because he didn't like it. First they no longer want to hold your hand, what's next?

 **SPN**

"What do you mean you don't think it will work, Bobby? It's a demon-dispelling ritual." Sam frantically typed away on his laptop, his phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. "Well, maybe we got the translation wrong."

The door jangled and Sam looked up just in time to see Emmy enter. She caught his eye but didn't make a move to approach him or greet him, she simply turned around and made a beeline for the bathroom. Sam was confused, wondering where Dean was when suddenly someone tapped the window next to him. Dean shot him a little wave with the paper still in his hand.

"Look, we can't just let Dean fry in hell while we—" Sam paused as he studied something on is computer screen, "there's got to be something that we – " The door dangled once again and Dean started to make his way over to the table. Sam cleared his throat and quickly made an end to the call. "Oh, ah, yeah, no, ah, I-I gotta go. Uh. Okay. Never mind."

Dean only caught the last few words and frowned at his brother in suspicion. "Hey. Who was that?"

Sam ran a hasty hand through his hair. "Ah, I was just ordering pizza."

Dean looked around as he took a seat. "Dude, you do realize that you're in a restaurant?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Oh, yeah. I ... just felt like pizza, you know?" he dismissed with a tight lipped smile that reeked of pretense.

"O-kay, Weirdy Mcweirderton." Dean decided not to dwell on it and cleared his throat. "So, I think I got something."

"Yeah?" Sam breathed, happy with the change of subject.

Dean put the paper down, displaying an article he had circled. "Cicero, Indiana. Falls on his own power saw."

Sam studied the article. "And? What, that's it? One power saw?"

"Well... yeah."

Sam wasn't convinced. "And you think that this is a case?"

"Well, I don't know. Could be," he sounded unsure himself but clearly had an underlying motive.

"I don't know, Dean. I – I –"

"Can I sit by the window?" Emmy suddenly asked, finally joining them.

"Well, hello to you too," Sam said as he stood up to let her slide into the booth.

"We saw each other this morning," she pointed out.

"Right …" Sam didn't know what else to say, lately she always threw him off. He passed her the menu instead. "Here, pick something." Sam turned to his brother. "You were saying?"

Dean decided to get out with it. "All right, there's something better ... better in Cicero than just a case."

"And that is?"

Dean leaned back in his seat, the corners of his lips lifting up in his trademark grin. "Lisa Braeden."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Should I even ask?"

"Remember that road trip I took, uh... gosh, about eight years ago now? You were in Orlando with Dad wrapping up that banshee thing."

Sam nodded, remembering. "Yeah. Yeah, the five states, five-day – "

Dean laughed. "Yeah. Well, kind of. Although I spent most of my time in Lisa Braeden's loft."

"Wait, what about me then?" Emmy wondered out loud.

"You were with me," Dean said. "Actually, we would have never met if it weren't you. Lisa thought you were adorable."

"You used me to pick up girls?"

"What can I say, cute kids are like magnets when it comes to hot chicks," Dean winked at her.

Emmy just shook her head as she brought her gaze back to the menu. She was starting to lose her appetite.

Sam closed his laptop and leaned closer. "So let me get this straight. You want to drive all the way to Cicero just to hook up with some random chick?"

"She was a yoga teacher. It was the bendiest weekend of my life."

Emmy shoved the menu away. "I'm not hungry anymore."

Dean just snorted, apparently amused. "Come on, guys. Have a heart, huh? It's my dying wish."

Sam clenched his teeth. "Yeah, well, how many dying wishes are you gonna get?"

"As many as I can squeeze out." Dean noticed the unimpressed looks on his siblings' faces and sighed. "Come on. Smile, you guys! God knows I'm gonna be smiling after 24 hours with Gumby girl." Dean chuckled to himself. "Gumby girl … Wait, does that make me Pokey?"

Sam reluctantly gave in with a little laugh but it didn't work with Emmy. She didn't get why Dean would pretend it didn't bother him, she didn't get why he would brush it off as if it wasn't death that was awaiting him. Or maybe he just wasn't convinced he would actually die in a year. Either way, she didn't like this whole nonchalant attitude of his.

"Hey, Emmy you should come with me," Dean said. "I'm sure she'll remember you. She actually babysat you for a few hours, you were two and you used to love playing with her hair."

"Uhm, no that would just be awkward."

"Why not?" he lightly nudged her foot under the table. "I know she'll be happy to see you, honestly I think she loved you more than she loved me," he chuckled.

"I just don't wanna see her, Dean. It's not like I know her, I don't even remember how she looks like."

"So?"

"So?" she looked at him, wondering if he was truly that oblivious or if he was just pretending. "Unlike you Dean, my _dying wish_ isn't to see some woman that probably forgot about you and doesn't care that you'll be dead in a year. Unlike you Dean, I have other _dying wishes_."

"Where are you going?" Sam asked her when she wormed her way out of the booth.

"The bathroom."

"Again?"

"Yes, again," she softly replied before disappearing through the door.

Sam let out a tired sigh, facing his brother. "Dean – "

Dean held up his hand, shutting him up. "She'll come around."

"I think you should go talk to her."

"Bobby said to give her some space, you told me to give her some space, so that's exactly what I'm gonna do."

Sam twisted his lips in thought. "You're not making it easy on her, you know."

"She just doesn't understand."

"To be fair, sometimes I don't understand you either," he admitted quietly.

Dean clenched his jaw, his fingers tapping on the surface of the table. He wanted to tell his brother _he_ didn't understand himself either. Did he want to stay alive? Yes. Did he want to die? Of course not. But a part of him already made peace with the fact that his faith was sealed, there was no turning back now so he might as well embrace it. They always said acceptance was a good step in the right direction – or was it?

"Hi, my name is Matt, I'll be serving you today. You guys ready to take your order?"

For the first time ever, even Dean lost his appetite.

 **SPN**

Emmy lay face down on one of the beds in their current motel room. She was bored to death – she had to give up her Nintendo and iPod for a month after disobeying her brothers back in Nebraska. She didn't stay in the basement like she was supposed to and instead got out only to come face to face with a demon called Envy. She didn't do it to bring anyone in danger, it wasn't her acting out, she had just hoped that bringing _herself_ in danger would catch a certain archangel's attention.

There wasn't a day that passed without her praying and _begging_ for the angel to come down to help her. Emmy hadn't seen or heard from Gabriel since the day they defeated Azazel. He just up and left and never bothered to keep in touch. She still wasn't sure if he was busy or just ignoring her, but it started to irritate her – actually, it started to scare her. He was her last hope. Gabriel always said he was an angel of the lord and that there wasn't anything he couldn't do, so surely he could save Dean before it was too late. He even brought her dad back, even if it was only for a day.

She picked up her head from the bed and propped her face on her fists. SpongeBob was on but the show wasn't nearly as funny and entertaining enough to keep her mind off the fact that her brother was dying. Nothing could distract her anymore, absolutely nothing.

"Did you find anything?" she asked Sam who was sitting at the small kitchen table. He was on his laptop, surrounded by multiple books and sheets of paper.

"No, nothing."

"What about uncle Bobby? Did you call him today?"

"Yeah, I spoke to him, he hasn't found anything either." Sam closed his laptop, rubbing his eyes. He was so tired, it was taking a toll on him. He looked at his sister and shot her a sad smile. "We're not giving up until we found something. I'm not gonna let Dean die, honey. I promise."

Emmy barely nodded as she focused on the tv screen, not even disguising the fact she wasn't really paying attention.

"Emmy, come here for a second."

Her blue eyes flickered to his. "What?"

He patted his lap. "Come here."

She frowned. "Why?"

He rolled his eyes. "Just get over here."

She sighed and reluctantly made her way over to her brother. She stood in front of him, confused about what he wanted. Sam grabbed her hand and pulled her onto his lap.

"Talk to me," he said.

"About what?" She picked at her nails, anything to avoid looking at his probing eyes.

He squeezed her lightly. "You know what."

"I don't have anything to say." She let her arm hang over his shoulder, still not meeting his gaze. "And you already know how I feel."

"I _think_ I know how you feel, but I wanna hear you say it out loud."

She was quiet for a full minute, swinging her legs to the rhythm of her pounding heart. Sam didn't push, he knew time was precious especially now, but he reminded himself that he should always have time for his baby sister.

"I hate it," she eventually said, barely over a whisper. "I hate that he made a deal, I hate that he only has a year, I hate that it was the only thing he could do to save you. I hate all of it."

Sam watched as a single tear rolled down her freckled cheek landing right on top of his hand in her lap.

"I hate him," she said through quivering lips. "I hate Dean."

Sam swallowed hard. "Yeah?"

"I hate him for not trying harder, I hate him for not caring," she admitted with a sniff. "It's almost like he has given up, like he _wants_ to die."

"Dean's not giving up, Emmy. He's just not giving in," Sam explained as he tucked some hair behind her ear. "He's not letting this deal affect his life, he doesn't wanna change anything just because his time will be up in less than a year."

"Well it's frustrating." Emmy brushed away another silent tear. "I remember my eight birthday, you were in Stanford, Dad was on a hunt and left me with Dean. He had promised to take me to the new Harry Potter movie and then he'd take me to the beach. He was really sick that day, he had a high fever and kept throwing up. I told him we could stay at the motel and just watch a movie there but he insisted he was fine. We ended up having a great day, I never had so much fun – it was one of the best birthdays ever. That night, after I took a shower, I found him passed out on the bed. At first I thought he was asleep but he wouldn't wake up. I called 911 and they sent an ambulance. Turned out he had to have his appendix removed. If he had waited till the next day, it would've burst and he could've died."

Sam stroked her back. "That sounds like Dean, alright." Way too much pride to ask for help until it was too late.

"He's never gonna ask us to help him out of the deal, Sammy. He'll never ask us to do anything for him. He thinks that it's his job to take care of us and not the other way around," she muttered into his shoulder.

"We'll find a way to get to him, I know we will," he reassured her as he ran his hand through her hair. "Maybe we should make him feel less bad about the things he does. It's just his way of coping with everything, pretending everything is okay. You think you can try? For him."

She thought about it as she rested her cheek on his shoulder, his breath fanning against her forehead. "I'll try."

Sam half-smiled against her temple before pressing a kiss.

Emmy stayed in her brother's arms, feeling safe and protected. She realized she didn't reach out to Sam and Dean as much as she used to. She was fully aware of the fact that sometimes she was pushing them away and she wasn't sure _why_ she was doing it in the first place – was it space she needed or was it something else?

Sam was lost in his own thoughts as he buried his nose into Emmy's soft hair, he could never get tired of the smell of home. He missed these moments where she would just let him hold her. He used to think she was the one who needed that comfort, the physical touch but really, it was him who needed it more than anything else. He squeezed his arms tighter around her and tried to cherish the moment while it lasted when someone suddenly knocked on the door.

Emmy felt Sam tense up. Dean had the key so it couldn't be him. No one else knew about their whereabouts. The person knocked again and Sam jumped into action. He put Emmy down and sat her down on one of the beds, out of sight from the door. He checked if his gun was still tucked in his waistband and kept his hand on the handle as he checked through the peephole.

A blonde woman smiled up at him as if she knew he was checking.

"Who is it?" Emmy asked.

Sam put a finger in front of his lips, signaling her to stay quiet before opening the door a crack.

"Hello, Sam." The blonde smiled. "You're not gonna let me in? I saved your life last week, the least you can do is treat me to a beer."

 **SPN**

From the first time she lay her eyes upon the strange woman, Emmy instantly felt something wasn't right. She couldn't put her finger on it, but this woman emitted bad vibes causing tingles running up her spine. It was a gut feeling telling her this woman couldn't be trusted even though she did save their lives not too long ago. Call it intuition or merely a guess, Emmy couldn't shake the feeling off.

"You've been following us since Lincoln," Sam said as he leaned against a dresser.

"Not much gets by you, huh?" She looked around the motel room with mild interest. Her eyes met Emmy's and she smiled. "Hey sweetie, looks like you managed to wash off all the demon blood from your pretty face. Sorry about that."

Sam cleared his throat, not trusting the woman enough to communicate with his sister. "That knife you had. You can kill demons with that thing?"

"Sure comes in handy when I have to swoop in and save the damsels in distress." She took a seat at the table and munched on some M&M's Emmy hadn't finished.

"Where'd you get it?" Sam wanted to know.

"Skymall."

Sam's arms crossed over his torso. "Why are you following us?"

She shot the siblings a conniving smile. "I'm interested in you two."

"Why?"

"Well, baby Winchester here stood up against Envy like it was nothing. And I heard some badass things about the way she brought yellow eyes to his knees." She turned to Emmy, cocking an inviting eyebrow. "We can totally be BFF's if you want. And you," she focused back on Sam, "You're tall. I love a tall man. And then there's the whole antichrist thing."

Sam straightened his back. "Excuse me?"

"You know, generation of psychic kids, Yellow-Eyed Demon rounds you up, celebrity death match ensues," she explained with an air of nonchalance. "You're the sole survivor."

Sam's face fell.

"How do you know about that?" Emmy questioned.

"Emmy," Sam gave her a look, a look that said to leave the talking to him.

"I'm a good hunter," the woman who had yet to be named shrugged. "So, Yellow Eyes had some pretty big plans for you two."

" _Had_ being the key word," he corrected her.

She threw another M&M in her mouth and looked at Emmy. "Good thing you had your saving angel flying in before things went from bad to worse."

Emmy froze. _How the hell did she know about Gabriel?_ Emmy never told her brothers about what really happened that day with Azazel – how he got hooked on her blood, how he almost sacrificed her, or how she somehow found the power to stand up against him until Gabriel came in before things went south.

She felt Sam's questioning eyes on her but couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze without giving away the lie about to leave her mouth.

"Your saving angel? What the hell is she talking about, Emmy?"

"Uhm, she's talking about Dad," Emmy stammered.

The woman's eyes twinkled as if she knew a secret no one else knew. Emmy just hoped she'd change the subject.

"What?" Sam asked again, confused.

"Good job with killing the demon," the blonde lady said causing Emmy to let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. "It doesn't change the fact that you're special ... in that Anthony Michael Hall E.S.P. visions kind of way."

Sam shook his head firmly. "No. No, that's stuff's not happening anymore. Not since Yellow-Eyes died."

She threw her hair back, her head slightly tilted to the side as she eyed him up and down. "Well, I'm thinking you're still a pretty big deal. I mean, after all that business with your mom."

"What about our mom?" Emmy asked but instantly clamped her lips shut when her brother  
shot her a pointed look.

"You know, what happened to her friends," she said. Judging by the looks of the two Winchesters, she knew that they actually _didn't_ know. "Oh, you've got a little bit of catching up to do, my friends. So, why don't you look into your mom's pals…" She picked up a pen on the table and marched over to Sam to write a number on his hand. "…and then give me a call and we'll talk again?"

Sam opened his mouth to say something but she cut him off as she got up to leave. "And, by the way, you do know there's a job in this town, right?"

The door closed and Emmy was rendered speechless for a few seconds. "What was that?"

"I'm not sure …" Sam trailed just as his phone rung. He picked up and soon Dean's voice sounded through the earpiece.

" _Dude, there is a job here."_

Sam put the phone on speaker. "Really?" he wasn't surprised, not after the strange visit.

" _Yeah. You know that one freak accident we read about in the paper? Turns out there's four more that never even made the paper, all in this ... Morning Hill gated community. People falling off of ladders and drowning in their Jacuzzis all over the neighborhood."_

"Weird," Emmy mouthed to her brother.

 **SPN**

That night when Dean entered with their food, he frowned when he saw his sister setting up a makeshift bed on the couch.

He dropped the Styrofoam boxes on the table and exchanged a questioning look with Sam.

Sam just shrugged.

Dean took off his leather jacket and put it on the back of a chair. "Whatcha up to, cutie pie?"

She turned to him and stretched her hand, palm up. "Can I have the keys to the Impala, my blanket's still in the backseat."

"What do you need your blanket for?"

"To cover myself when I'm asleep." _Duh._

Dean turned to face the beds. "These beds are already made."

"I'm not gonna sleep there, I'm gonna sleep on the couch." She wriggled her fingers for the keys.

Sam sighed. "There's enough room on the beds, Emmy."

Emmy's eyes flickered between her two brothers. "It's not like I asked you to go get me my own room, I just wanna sleep on the couch that's all."

Dean seemed to contemplate his next move as he bit the inside of his cheek. He eventually dug his hand into his pocket for the car keys. "I'll go get it," he said before leaving the room.

"Emmy – "

"I know, Sammy," she interjected before hearing another lecture about how she had to be more thoughtful. "It's just the couch."

He rubbed his fingers over his forehead. "Well, to him it's more than just the couch. You're distancing yourself from him."

"It's just the couch," she insisted.

Sam let out a tired breath, not in the mood to argue with her. "Just remember what I told you. You said you'd try."

Emmy didn't say anything as she plopped herself down on the couch. Dean reentered the room and passed her her favorite blanket.

"Thanks," she tried to smile but he didn't meet her eye.

"Well, I don't know about you two but I'm starving."

Emmy was about to say she wasn't hungry until she noticed the box with chicken nuggets, her favorite. Dean surely made it hard for her to hate him – and she hated that.

As she sat at the table, Sam reached around her for his food but not without nudging her shoulder, as if reminding her of their deal.

Emmy sucked in a breath before slowly letting it out. She pushed her hair out of her face and turned to Dean. "So how did it go with Lisa today, was she happy to see you?"

Dean, slightly taken off guard, swallowed down his food before answering. "It was alright. I wouldn't exactly call it happy, but she sure seemed appeased to see me."

"Are you meeting up with her again?"

Dean wasn't sure where the sudden interest came from but he wasn't about to complain about it either. He thought Emmy made it clear that seeing Lisa shouldn't be one of his top priorities but she seemed to have changed her mind.

"I think so yeah, tomorrow maybe."

"Can I come with you?" she asked as she munched on her chicken nugget.

A little smile broke on his face. "Yeah, why not. She'd love to see you, she asked about you, you know."

Emmy lifted an eyebrow in surprise. "She did?"

"You bet she did, I even showed her a picture and all."

"Which one?"

"The one Sammy took when Rumsfeld dragged you into that lake."

Emmy dropped her food. "You did not, Dean that one's embarrassing. My hair looked like a rat's nest, and I had mud all over me."

"Watcha talking about, you looked adorable," Dean smirked playfully.

"It's the dimples," Sam agreed, flashing one of his own.

"Always the dimples," Dean chuckled.

Emmy pouted. "I can't believe you did that, Sammy. You said you wouldn't show it to anyone. I mean of all pictures, you choose that one."

Dean threw a curly fry in his mouth. "That's not the only picture, I also showed her that one when you fell asleep in the Impala."

Emmy's mouth dropped. "You take pictures of me when I'm asleep? That's creepy, Dean."

"Well stop being so damn cute all the time," he retorted with a pinch to her cheek.

She pushed his hand away causing him to retaliate by repeatedly poking her side. And before you knew it she ended up trapped in his arms while he tickled her, eliciting a string of giggles out of her.

Sam took a sip from his beer as he watched his siblings. He didn't want to miss moments like these.

 **SPN**

While Sam took it upon him to speak to one of the mothers who had recently lost her husband, Dean and Emmy went to the park to see Lisa and her son. Dean hadn't told Emmy anything about Ben, he didn't want her to jump to conclusions like he did. He just hoped she wouldn't notice or put two and two together.

Dean saw Ben sitting on a bench, looking sad and bothered. He pulled Emmy along and she frowned when she realized where they were going.

"Who is that?" she asked quietly.

"That's Lisa's son," he said, hoping she wouldn't ask any more questions. "Hey, Ben."

The boy looked up, eyes twinkling in recognition. "Hey. You were at my party."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm Dean." Dean put a hand on Emmy's shoulder, gently pulling her forward. "This is Emmy, my little sister."

Not knowing what to do, Emmy just half-waved. "Hi."

Ben blinked. "Hi. You're really pretty."

Emmy's eyes widened briefly. "Um, thanks …?"

Dean cleared his throat in an attempt to stop wherever this was going. "Everything okay? Something wrong?"

Emmy noticed Ben holding an empty case. She looked out at the field and saw a group of four boys playing a Gameboy. "Is that your game they're playing with?"

Ben dropped his head in embarrassment. "Ryan Humphrey borrowed it, and now he won't give it back."

"Well, you want me to go— " Dean started.

"No!" Ben jumped up. "Don't go over there! Only bitches send a grown-up."

Dean's lips twitched. "You're not wrong."

"And I am not a bitch." Ben looked at Emmy as he said it, as if wanting to prove himself to her.

"You're not a bitch," she agreed for his sake.

Dean threw her a disapproving look. _What?_ She mouthed, Ben looked younger than her and he was allowed to say it, so why can't she? Always with the double standards.

Dean motioned to one of the boys. "Is that Humphrey? The one that needs to lay off the burgers?"

Ben nodded, smiling tightly.

"Hmm," was all Dean said and Emmy instantly recognized that look in his eyes.

"Dean, no." She knew that look, that was the _'I'll beat anyone up who dares to bother you'-_ look. Throughout her childhood, Dean had that look many times. When this boy Bentley in kindergarten ate her lunch, or when some old lady commented on the way her brothers dressed her, or you know, when a demon threatened to kill her.

Dean looked down at her innocently. "I'm not gonna do anything."

 **SPN**

Emmy winced when Ben kicked the boy hard between the legs. The poor kid crumpled to the ground in pain and Ben took his game back, smiling triumphantly at Dean.

"Thanks. Dude, that was awesome!"

"Benjamin. Isaac. Braeden! What's gotten into you?"

Emmy startled and looked up to see a brunette who had the exact same eyes as Ben. Ah, this must be Lisa.

"He stole my game," Ben exclaimed.

"So you kick him? Since when is—" she paused, suddenly noticing Dean who failed terribly at hiding the smug grin. "Did you tell my son to beat up that kid?"

Dean tucked his hands in his pockets as he lifted his shoulders. "What? Somebody had to teach him how to kick the bully in the nads."

Lisa didn't look amused at all. "Who asked you to teach him anything?"

"Just relax - "

"Uh, I'm sorry, it won't happen again," Emmy interjected before Dean made everything worse.

As if noticing her for the first time, Lisa's face softened. "You must be Emmy. My god, you have grown. Those pictures didn't do you any justice."

Emmy smiled awkwardly, she hoped her cheeks didn't burn up from embarrassment.

Dean smirked. "Pretty good genes, huh? She got that from me."

Emmy felt her face warm up, no longer able to fight the blush. She rolled her eyes at her brother, always making a fool out of himself _and her_.

Lisa laughed but it didn't reach her eyes. "What are you even still doing here?" She grabbed Dean's arm and walked a few steps away to talk to him in a hushed voice.

"Your brother's really cool," Ben told Emmy.

"Define cool."

"He's _awesome_ ," he smirked and the familiarity of it struck Emmy. "Like _really_ awesome."

"If you say so … Uhm, Ben how old are you?"

"Oh, I'm eight. But don't worry, Mom says that I'll be taller in a few years," he reassured her. "Oh and much stronger too," he added with a wink.

"That's – that's good to know."

"How old are you?"

"I'm turning eleven in a few weeks."

Disappointment washed over his face.

"What's wrong?" Emmy asked.

"You're way too old for me."

"U-uh, I'm – what?" Emmy stuttered.

Before he could say anything else, Lisa came back. "Ben, let's go. Emmy, it was really nice to meet you. You try keep that brother of yours in line for me, huh?"

"I'll try," she half-smiled.

Ben threw a glance at the two Winchesters and shrugged out of his mother's grip. He ran towards Dean and grabbed him in a quick hug before moving to Emmy and doing the same.

"Ben!" Lisa called after him.

Emmy watched as they left and bit her bottom lip in thought. Dean could practically hear the wheels turning in her head and decided to counteract before she'd start voicing her suspicions.

"He's not mine."

Emmy looked up at her brother. "But he acts exactly like you. I mean he doesn't look like you at all but the way he talks – he said awesome _twice,_ and he winked and smirked. His jacket even looked like yours. That's weird Dean."

He just chuckled as he led her to the Impala. "You know what would be weird, if he had to call you auntie Emmy."

Emmy shuddered. "That would be _really_ weird, especially because he tried to hit on me. I think. I don't even know what that was to be honest."

Dean laughed.

"Wait, you're not even mad about it?" Emmy couldn't believe it, this was so _not_ Dean. The Dean she knew would beat the living daylights out of everyone who even looked at her the wrong way.

"I mean he's just a little boy, it's all talk really. Besides, I can't blame him for having good taste," he grinned cheekily.

Emmy just shook her blonde little head as she got into the car. Dean laughed as he rounded the car to the driver's seat. He was about to get in when he noticed three young kids staring at him.

 _Creepy_.

 **SPN**

Sam couldn't shake off the image of the woman with the strange injury on the back of her neck. It was oval with multiple dots around it, reminding him of a mark from a sucker or teeth. He was currently at his computer, doing research when Dean entered with Emmy.

"Something's wrong with the kids in this town," was the first thing Dean said.

"Yeah. Tell me about it," Sam snorted. "So, what do you know about changelings?"

"Evil monster babies?" Emmy said, but when both her brothers turned to stare at her she instantly regretted opening her mouth.

Dean narrowed his eyes. "What do you know about changelings?"

"N-nothing."

Sam couldn't help but notice her fidgeting and decided to put her out of her misery. "Bobby gave her an encyclopedia about every creature ever found."

Now it was Emmy's turn to squint her eyes. "How did you know about the book?" Bobby had made sure to use another cover and she swore she always made sure to keep it out of her brothers' sight.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't fall asleep with the book wide open."

Emmy cursed herself under her breath. She should've been more careful than that.

Dean clapped his hands. "Alright, where is this book?"

Emmy jumped in front of him before he could get to her duffel bag. "Dean, please! I'm not doing anything wrong, it's just reading. There's no harm in that."

"Emmy, sweetheart, we already told you that we don't want you involved in this line of business."

"Oh come on Dean! It's not like I'm hunting or anything, I'm just … educating myself." Emmy thought it sounded better in her head.

"This isn't up for discussion, now where's the book?" as he rummaged through her clothes in the bag, his hand suddenly touched something hard. He took out the book and scoffed at the fake cover. " _Grimm's, A Timeless Collection of Fairytales?_ Bobby, you sonuvabitch."

Emmy knew there was no way she could change Dean's mind, so she decided to try with her other brother. "Sammy? Please lemme keep the book."

Sam twisted his mouth as he thought about it. "Dean," he sighed, "She's right, it doesn't do any harm to know about this stuff. I mean she has seen some of these monsters, it doesn't hurt to know what they are and what they do and how to defeat them."

Dean clenched his jaw. "We promised Dad, Sam."

 _Oh yeah, sure, the Dad-cart._

"See it as uh, prevention, or by way of precaution," Sam tried. "What if she's in danger, knowing about the monsters could help her. The book might come in handy, you know."

Emmy watched Dean closely, waiting for the signs of him giving up.

Dean put the book down, shooting them a challenging look. "Right, when did the book _ever_ come in handy."

"Well, not yet, but maybe someday – "

"Exactly Sam," Dean interrupted, "She never needed it before cause _we_ are there to protect her, that's more than enough."

Sam opened his mouth to say something but knew there was no way he could go crack Dean's hardheaded skull. He looked at Emmy, eyes shining in defeat.

Dean ripped off the fake cover and snorted when he read the true title, " _The Element Encyclopedia of Supernatural Creatures: The Ultimate A-Z of Fantastic Beings from Myth and Magic."_ He flickered through the pages and huffed, "This thing should be R-rated."

Emmy was quiet as she sat on the couch. She wouldn't allow them to take this book away from her. She was in _this_ life whether they liked it or not. Her brothers couldn't keep shutting her out to _protect her_ , it never worked. Keeping her close meant she was in as much danger as they were. They thought by locking her up in the Impala or motel room kept her safe, but no one was ever safe around Sam and Dean. Sure, they'd do anything to keep her out of harm's way, they would literally die for her, but they could never keep the monsters away – because wherever the Winchesters go, the monsters go too.

"It saved my life once," she spoke.

"What?"

"The book. It did save my life once."

Dean's eyes searched her face for an explanation. "When?"

"When the Djinn caught us."

Sam knew it. He remembered when Dean killed the Djinn but he could've sworn Emmy woke up _before_ that.

Emmy swallowed hard. "I knew how to escape the fantasy 'cause I read it in the book. If I hadn't known about it … " She didn't finish her sentence, letting them to fill in the blanks.

She knew it wasn't the truth. Gabriel was the one who had really saved her. Emmy wasn't even sure if she had it in her to put an end to her life. She didn't think she was strong enough.

Dean wet his lips as he ran both his hands through his hair. "Fine." He dropped the book in her lap but held her chin between his fingers. "Reading only. If you so much as _do_ anything written in that book, I won't hesitate to burn it to ashes."

 _Good enough for me,_ Emmy thought. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. "Thanks."

Dean stood up with her in his arms and hugged her back. "What am I gonna do with you?" he mumbled into her hair.

Emmy kissed his cheek before getting back on her feet.

"So," Sam said, getting back to where they had left off. "No Emmy, they're not necessarily babies."

A thought struck Dean as he remembered those weird kids staring at him at the park. "They're kids? Creepy, ' _stare at you like you're lunch_ ' kids?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. There's one at every victim's house. Changelings can perfectly mimic children. According to lore, they climb in the window, snatch the kid. Y'know, there were marks on the windowsill at one of the kid's houses. Looked to me like blood. "

"Reminds me of the Shtriga," Emmy muttered, the memory causing chills to run up her spine.

"Yeah, but not exactly," Sam said.

Dean joined Emmy on the couch, throwing an arm around her shoulder. "So the changeling grabs a kid, assumes its form, joins the happy fam just for kicks?"

"Not quite." Sam grabbed his laptop to read the article he had found. "Changelings feed on the mom: synovial fluid. The moms have these odd bruises on the back of their necks. Changelings can drain them for a few weeks before mom finally croaks."

"And then there's dad and the babysitter," Dean added.

"Seems like anyone who gets between the changeling and its food source ends up dead."

Dean twirled a strand of Emmy's hair around his finger as he eyed the torch in the corner of the room. "And fire's the only way to waste them?"

"Yup."

Dean sighed. "Great. We'll just bust in, drag the kids out, torch them on the front lawn. That'll play great with the neighbors."

"What about the real ones?" Emmy wondered out loud. "What happens to them?"

"According to lore, they stash them underground somewhere," Sam answered. "I don't know why, but if it's true, the real kids might be out there."

Dean patted the arm of the couch. "We better start looking. So, any kid in the neighborhood is vulnerable?"

"Any kid with a Mom," Emmy said, shooting Dean a knowing look.

Dean caught on. _Ben._ "We gotta make a stop. I want to check on someone."

 **SPN**

Emmy pushed her face against the window of the Impala, knowing that Dean hated when she smooched his baby but there were more important things going on right now.

She watched as he talked to Lisa, trying to convince her to get out of town until they've dealt with these so called changelings.

"It looks like she thinks Dean is crazy," Sam commented next to her.

"Ben seems off …" Emmy noticed.

Sam inched closer to see more clearly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean look at the way he's staring at Dean, like he's irritated with him or something."

"Well, Dean did hook up with his mom years ago, maybe he's not happy he's back."

"No, you should've seen him when he was around Dean. He worships him, thinks he's _awesome._ "

Sam frowned. "You don't think Ben is – "

Emmy shook her head. "According to Dean he's not his son."

"That's a relief."

The door slammed in Dean's face and Emmy felt bad that it didn't go as well as they had planned. Dean didn't give up though and creeped along the house to watch through one of the windows.

"What is he doing?" Emmy whispered.

It wasn't long before Dean came back to the Impala. Emmy scooted over so he could sit behind the wheel. "They took Ben. He's changed."

"What?! Are you sure?" Sam and Emmy said at the same time.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I checked his windowsill," Dean forced through gritted teeth.

"Blood?" Sam guessed.

"I don't think it's blood, and I think I know where the kids are." Dean put the key in the ignition and revved up the car. "But first I gotta drop Emmy off at the motel."

"You can't just leave me at the motel," she protested. "Think about it, I'll be all by myself while there's a monster on the loose hunting children."

Dean clamped his teeth, he hated how right she was. "What is this, _let's prove Dean how wrong he is-_ day?"

 **SPN**

"You, stay in the car."

Emmy looked at Dean's warning finger and nodded.

"I mean it Emmy, if you're not here when I get back you can say goodbye to that book."

"I got it, Dean."

"Dean, come on we gotta go," Sam ushered him, the torch and other weapons in his hands.

Dean shot his sister one last pointed look before following Sam inside a semi-finished house. There was a _For Sale_ -sign and a large mound of dirt around the house – the same red dirt they had found on the windows.

Emmy bit her nails while she waited for her brothers. She wished she had her phone with her or something to kill the time, she never got used to waiting – never knowing if her brothers would get out alive or not.

Footsteps alarmed her and Emmy slid down her seat to hide herself. A redheaded woman was walking towards the house. She seemed focused on something because she didn't even bat an eye when she saw the Impala parked on the side of the road. Emmy was confused as to who the lady was until she caught her reflection on one of the side mirrors of the car. She gasped but quickly covered her mouth before the monster could hear her. The face of the woman was similar to the picture Emmy had seen in her book – eyes like black holes, a round mouth with rounds of sharp teeth and skin gaunt and grey.

Emmy's breath hitched as the woman walked into the house. That's when she noticed Dean had forgotten to lock the car in his haste.

 **SPN**

Inside, Dean and Sam wandered about with their flashlights when Dean heard a noise coming from the basement. He motioned for Sam to stay up while he went down.

Dean took each step with caution, his hunter senses on high alert. His light shone upon a series of cages, each containing kids, the abducted kids. That's when he recognized one of them.

"Ben... Ben... it's okay. I'm gonna get you out of here, okay?" Dean managed to open his cage and got him out. Ben hugged him and Dean ruffled his hair. "Alright, c'mon let's go. Hurry up."

 **SPN**

Meanwhile, Sam was still looking around the house when the redheaded woman entered.

"What do you think you're doing?"

 _Dammit,_ he thought. He recognized her as the Real Estate lady.

"This is private property, I'm calling the police."

Sam lowered his gun. "Ah, I'm sorry, I'm going, I just – " he trailed off when he caught a movement behind the woman. A blonde head peeked up at him from behind a chair. _Emmy?_ Sam was about to scold her but she held up a finger against her lips and pointed at a mirror hanging on the wall. Sam was confused until he saw the reflection of the woman and her real face.

"You heard me! Get out!" she shouted as she slowly advanced towards him.

Pretending to leave, Sam searched for his bag. "I – I could — just let me get my bag. I'm going. I, I don't mean to cause any trouble."

Sam reached for his bag and pulled out the flame-thrower, aiming it at her. "Emmy, get down!" There was a whooshing sound with the flame and the woman disappeared.

"Is she like the mother?" Emmy panted, slowly getting out of her hiding place.

"We need to tell Dean." Sam grabbed her hand, pulling her along to the basement.

Dean was in the middle of freeing the kids out of their cages. He had managed to smash the window and cleared off the glass so they could crawl out.

"Hey! Dean!" Sam shouted. "There's a mother."

"A mother changeling?" Dean momentarily stopped helping a girl out of the window when he noticed his sister. "Emmy! What the hell did I just tell you?"

"We got to get these kids out quick," Sam pressed, moving to help the real redheaded woman out of her cage.

Emmy gulped when Dean's fierce eyes were on her. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea.

"Oh little girl, you're in for one hell of a treat."

"I was just trynna warn you guys," she tried to explain.

Dean shut her up with a stern glare. "I don't wanna hear another word coming out of you. Do you realize how dangerous this is? What if you have gotten hurt?"

"I'm fine, aren't I?"

"You call this fine? Look around you, Emmy! This monster is out for kids, you could've been one of them!"

"I couldn't have been one of them 'cause I'm not like them! These kids have a mom and I don't have one, Dean!" she reminded him, tears pooling in her eyes. "I don't _have_ a mom, or a dad for that matter. This monster has nothing on some poor orphan like me."

Dean's throat constricted with the sudden growing lump. He swallowed hard, pushing it down in an attempt to compose himself. Hearing his sister say it out loud always tugged at his heartstrings. Seeing her between all these children who were crying for their parents – parents who were out there waiting for their _real_ kids to get back into the safety of their arms. But sweet, little Emmy didn't have that.

Sam looked between his siblings as he helped the children through the window. Now was not the right time to argue. "Dean, hurry up, we have to – "

Sam didn't have the chance to finish his sentence when one of the girls suddenly screamed.

Just as they looked up to see the changeling mother, Dean went flying into the air, landing on his back. Sam was quick to grab the flamethrower but before he could light it up, she kicked the lighter out of his hand. She lunged at him and punched him before throwing him across the room.

Dean had gotten a hold on a two by four and clocked her but she was too strong, knocking him down again.

Dean groaned. "Emmy, get them out of here!"

Emmy turned to Ben. "C'mon, help me with this cage." The two managed to drag one of the cages under the window, using it to help the others climb through the window. "Quick, hurry up, hurry up!" The children all got out one by one. "Ben, let's go!"

He was hesitant as he watched Dean and Sam fight the changeling mother.

Emmy put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about them. Trust me, they know what they're doing."

Ben nodded reluctantly before crawling out of the window. Emmy followed closely.

The children huddled together and jumped when a bright fire lit up the entire basement. It wasn't long before the Winchester brothers got out too. They looked worn out and sported several bruises and cuts, but they were alive and that's all that mattered to Emmy.

She smiled to herself and nudged Ben. "Awesome, right?"

 **SPN**

Emmy felt tears stinging her eyes as she watched Lisa sobbing, hugging Ben closely.

"Oh my god," she cried, taking him in to make sure he was alright. "What the hell just happened?"

Dean pressed his lips into a thin line. "I'll explain everything if you want me to, but, trust me, you probably don't. The important thing is, is that Ben's safe."

Lisa grabbed Dean in a bone crushing hug. "Thank you, thank you."

"I'm gonna give you guys some time," Sam said, starting to leave.

"Wait," Emmy was about to follow but Ben had grabbed her hand.

"Wanna see my new CD player?"

Emmy looked up at Dean, indecisive.

He just ran his hand down her hair with a smile.

"Come on," Lisa smiled, inviting them inside.

 **SPN**

"Changelings?"

"You know how I never mentioned my job? This is my job," Dean said as he accepted the beer.

Lisa let out a heavy breath. "I so didn't want to know that." She looked at Ben who was letting Emmy listen to some of his favorite songs. "Do you think he'll be okay?

"Yeah. I think he'll be fine." Dean couldn't help but smile when Emmy laughed at something Ben had said to her. "Okay, seriously... I mean, you're a hundred percent sure that he is not mine, right?"

"You're off the hook. I did a blood test when he was a baby," she reassured him with a simper. "There was this guy – some bar back in a biker joint."

Dean looked somewhere between shocked and surprised.

"What? I had a type. Leather jacket, couple of scars, no mailing address? I was there. Guess I was a little wild back then. Before I became a mom. So yeah. You can relax."

"Good." Dean looked back at Ben and Emmy with a longing feeling he couldn't explain.

Ben was a good kid and Dean definitely wouldn't have minded being his dad, but being a dad came with a lot of responsibilities. He already felt like a dad when it came to Emmy, he had raised her single handedly but he could never replace their father. It's still hurt him to think that John wasn't her biological father even though the man never showed it. It wasn't fair to Emmy to not have someone to call Daddy, everyone deserved to have a man to look up to, even Ben. But Dean could barely be a dad for Emmy, let alone to some kid that wasn't even blood related. As sad as it was, these two innocent children were better off without a father figure, especially if said father figure would be gone in less than a year.

Lisa tried to read the expression on his face. "I... I swear you look disappointed."

Dean shrugged out of his daze and sipped from his beer. "Yeah, I don't know. It's weird, you know your life... I mean, this house and a kid... it's not my life. Never will be. Some stuff happened to me recently, and, uh... Anyway, a guy in my situation – you start to think, you know. I'm gonna be gone one day, and what am I leaving behind besides a car?"

Lisa licked her lips. "I don't know. Ben may not be your kid, but ... he wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you. That's a lot if you ask me."

"You know, just for the record... you got a great kid. I would've been proud to be his dad."

Lisa didn't know what came over her when she leaned up to kiss him. She wished she could kiss him longer but something made her pull away.

She laughed a little, nervous. "Look, if, um... if you want to stick around for a while... you're welcome to stay."

Dean looked at her wistfully. "I can't. I got a lot of work to do, and it's not my life."

She smiled at him, understanding but also slightly sorrowful. He was a good man, one of a kind.

"Emmy, you coming sweetheart?"

Emmy took off the headphones and handed them back to Ben. "You got a great taste in music, Dean would've been proud of you."

Ben just smiled.

"Uhm, I gotta go now. Maybe we'll see each other again." Emmy knew it was never going to happen but they said to never say never.

"Yeah, that'd be cool," Ben nodded. He watched as she left but quickly called her name. "Uhm, you're pretty awesome too."

Emmy felt herself smile. "Right back at ya."

 **SPN**

Sam threw his phone on the bed and groaned. For the past hour, he'd done nothing but call every name in his dad's journal, every one of them that knew his mother, family members and friends.

"Oh my god." He put his hand in his hands. "They're dead. All of them. All of my mom's friends. Her doctor, her uncle – everyone who ever knew her, systematically wiped off the map one at a time. Someone went through a hell of a lot of trouble trying to cover their tracks."

"Yep. The Yellow-Eyed Demon."

Sam looked up at the blonde lady in suspicion. "So, what's your deal? You show up wherever I am. You know all about me. You know all about my mom."

She rolled her eyes. "I already told you. I'm –"

"Oh, right, right. Yeah, yeah. Just a hunter. Just some hunter who happens to know more about my own family than I do." Sam didn't believe a word of it. "Just tell me who you are."

She looked around the motel room, her eyes settling on a pink hoodie over the back of the couch. "Where's baby Winchester?"

"She's not here." Sam didn't like the interest she had in his sister, not when he still didn't know who she was or what her intentions were.

"You don't trust me?"

"Just tell me who you are."

She laughed. "It doesn't matter."

Sam stood up, fed up with her secretive attitude. "Just tell me who you are!"

The smile dropped and her face grew cold. "Fine." She blinked once, her eyes going demon-black, before going back to normal.

Sam backed up, instantly fumbling in his bag.

"Think twice before going for that holy water."

Sam pulled out a flask and held it out, nostrils flaring. "Just give me one reason I should."

"I'm here to help you, Sam."

Sam scoffed. "Is this some kind of joke?" And to think he brought Emmy this close to a frikkin' demon!? Sam felt sick to his stomach.

"God's honest truth... or whatever," she swore offhandedly.

"You're a demon."

"Don't be such a racist. I'm here because I want to help you," she insisted. "And I can if ... you trust me."

"Trust you?" What did she take him for, an idiot?

"Sam, calm down," she said, eying the flask with holy water.

"Start talking," Sam ordered, no longer beating around the bush. "All those murders... what was the demon trying to cover up?"

"I don't know."

"What happened to my mother?"

"I honestly don't know!" she repeated firmly. "That's what I'm trying to find out. All I know is that it's about you … and Emmy."

Sam's face faltered. "What?"

Ruby laughed. "Don't you get it, Sam? It's all about you. What happened to your mom, what happened to her friends. They're trying to cover up what he did to you and your sister. And I want to help you figure it out."

Sam was confused. "Why would you want to help me?"

"I have my reasons. Not all demons are the same, Sam. Not all of us want the same thing. Me?" she shrugged. "I want to help you from time to time. That's all. And if you let me, there's something in it for you."

"What could you possibly—"

"I could help you save your brother."

 **SPN**

Dean couldn't keep his eyes off Emmy as she ate her ice cream. She was careful not to spill or get anything on her clothes. She ate with precision and caution. It seemed like only yesterday when Dean had to pass her around wipes to clean herself up. He used his handkerchief more on her than anything else. And now – now there wasn't even a drop of ice cream on her face.

When did she grow up so fast?

He was right there, yet he seemed to have missed it all. And to think he wouldn't see her grow into a beautiful young lady, just tore his heart apart.

"I'm sorry," Emmy suddenly said, licking her ice cream.

"Mhmm?"

"I'm sorry it didn't work out with Lisa. She seemed really nice, and Ben wasn't too bad either."

"Really?" Dean flicked some hair out of her eyes. "You two seemed to get along."

"I mean if I ignore the similarities between you two, he's kinda cool."

Dean snickered. "You like him cause he reminds you of me."

She shot him a look as she licked her ice-cream. "Trust me, one Dean is more than enough, I don't need another mini-you nagging me about how _awesome_ he is."

Dean laughed.

"It's sad we couldn't stay longer," she said. "But then again, it's for the best."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

Emmy looked down at her ice-cream, suddenly not in the mood for it anymore. "If you had stayed, they would've gotten attached to you. It wouldn't be fair on them."

Dean's mouth felt dry as he understood what she was trying to say. And suddenly it all made sense to him – Emmy not wanting to hold his hand anymore, she wouldn't sleep next to him either, or when she insisted she didn't need his help, making sure to remind them every time she wasn't a baby anymore. This wasn't a phase she was going through, this wasn't her rebelling for the hell of it – this was her distancing herself from him.

Emmy knew he wouldn't be there anymore in a year. She was trying not to get too attached to him, trying to prepare herself for a life _without_ Dean.

Dean blinked back some tears and pulled his sister close. He pressed a lingering kiss on top of her head. "You know I love you, right?"

 ** _Second A/N: please, please, please review. I need to know if people are still reading this and if I should continue or not. I know I might have let some of you down, but please let me know what you thought of this chapter, or if there's anything in particular you want in the story._**

 ** _Also, it's so hard for me to find the right way for Emmy to cope with the loss of her brother. We're still in the beginning and she obviously hasn't accepted Dean's fate yet, she's angry and disappointed with him for not trying harder. She also hasn't given up and is convinced Sam will find a way to save Dean. I'm planning on letting her deal with everything her own way. There's plenty of chapters to come and I want to use that to delve into her head and explore all the thoughts and emotions going through her. She's still very young and has gone through a lot, so please keep that in mind. I don't want her to scream and shout so early into the season – Emmy has faith and hope, even though she's running out but she's still optimistic (for now). So please be patient._**

 ** _Please review, lots of love, xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_**


	4. Bad Day at Black Rock

**A/N: This one is dedicated to my Sammy girls! I absolutely loved watching this episode for like the hundreth time, poor ol' Sam was adorable in this :)) I enjoyed writing this so much!**

Gordon Walker was a hunter whose methods often put him at odds with the Winchesters, and they dared to call themselves _hunters?_ Sam and Dean were not hunters – too soft, too sentimental. Gordon was rough and tough, he was worthy of his title, he had no mercy for anything that wasn't human. Those monsters never stood a chance, never lived to tell the tale of the ruthless Gordon Walker.

And Sam Winchester was one of those monsters.

There was a war coming up, a war fought by a demon and his children – special children with psychic abilities.

And Sam Winchester was one of those special children.

Gordon had made it his mission to put an end to those abominable creatures who called themselves people. They were not people, they were no different from the vampires he decapitated. They deserved to die and rot in hell.

The door to the prison visitor's area opened and Gordon looked up. Kubrick was being swiped down with a metal detector before he was allowed to enter. He sat on the other side of the window and picked up the two-way phone.

"It's true. A Devil's Gate was opened in Wyoming. Big. St Helen's big." He sighed. "There's no solid fix on how many demons got out, but it's in the hundreds. An army."

Gordon knew it! "Sam Winchester was there. Wasn't he?"

"Talked to a guy who knows a guy who knows Bobby Singer, and yeah, it looks like the Winchesters were at ground zero when the gate was popped, but Singer said they went in there to stop it."

"Mhmm," Gordon shook his head, he was having none of it. "Bobby's edge ain't what it used to be. Sam could have him believing anything by now."

Kubrick licked his lips, inching closer. "Listen Gordon, as far as talk goes? Sam Winchester checks out. He's a hunter, that's all."

Gordon cocked an eyebrow in suspicion. "That's all?"

He nods.

"What about the kid, the girl."

Kubrick frowned. "Emmy Winchester? What about her?"

"Kubrick, I'm not even sure they're human," Gordon laughed. "You think I'm crazy? I told you there was a war coming – six months ago. Take a look around. It's here. Now I'm telling you this boy is a part of it. Track him down, Kubrick. You'll come to see it too. Sam Winchester must die."

"And the girl?"

A wicked, evil smile tugged at Gordon's lips as he remembered her blood – there was something about her that drew monsters to her like a moth to a flame. He'll never forget how that vampire hunkered for the girl's blood, it was like a drug, _she was like a human trap any hunter could use._ Emmy Winchester was destined for great things, she just didn't know yet.

"Don't kill her just yet, she can come in handy."

 **SPN**

"She's a demon?"

Emmy couldn't believe this. She knew something was off with the woman who now had a name – Ruby. She felt it every time she was around, even the thought of her made her shiver. And now Sam was planning on working with her?

Dean's hands tightened around the wheel as he drove the Impala. "I mean the second you find out this Ruby chick is a Demon you go for the holy water! You don't chat!"

Sam huffed with a roll of his eyes. "No one was chatting, Dean."

"Actually, you were," Emmy piped up from the backseat.

"Emmy – " Sam sighed but it was too late because Dean about blew up.

"She was there?!" he turned to glare at Sam. "You let a demon get close to our sister, Sam? Need I remind you what the last demon tried to do to her?"

Sam held up his hand. "First of all, I didn't know she was a demon. And need I remind you she also saved Emmy and I back at Nebraska?"

"So? She's still a demon Sam," he growled. "And when you found out, why didn't you send her ass back to Hell?"

Sam rested his head on his propped up fist, looking out the window. "Because … because she said she might be able to help us out."

"How?"

When Sam didn't answer, Dean pressed on.

"No really, Sam, how? How could she possibly help us?"

"She told me she could help you, okay!" he exclaimed. "Help you out of the crossroads deal."

Dean looked incredulous. As if Sam suddenly sprouted a second head.

Emmy chewed on her bottom lip. "It's actually not a crazy idea. I mean, a demon got you into this, Dean. Maybe another demon can help you out," she suggested, her voice small as if scared he'd shout at her too.

Dean chuckled, but it was more a sound of hysteria. He glared at Sam out of the corner of his eyes. "Now look what you did, you're gonna drag her into your _mission impossible_ too? She your sidekick now?"

"He's not dragging me into anything," Emmy spoke up. "We're just trynna help, that's all. Ruby hasn't done anything to hurt us or anything a demon usually does, is it that hard to believe that she might be telling the truth?"

"What is wrong with you two, huh? She's _lying_ , you gotta know that, don't you? She knows what your weakness is – it's me." Dean let out a shaky breath, his hands itching to punch something. "What else did she say?"

Sam was silent. What was the point of saying anything when his brother clearly paid no heed to his words.

"Dude?"

"Nothing," he said, rubbing a hand down his face. "Nothing, okay?! Look I'm not an idiot Dean, I'm not talking about trusting her, I'm talking about using her. I mean we're at war, right? And we don't know jack about the enemy; we don't know where they are, we don't know what they're doing. I mean, hell, we don't know what they want. Now this Ruby girl knows more than we will ever find out on our own. Now yes, it's a risk, I know that, but we need to take it."

Dean casted his brother a sideway glance. "You're okay right, I mean you're feeling okay?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yes I'm fine, why are you always asking me that?"

Emmy exchanged a knowing look with Dean through the rearview mirror. How was it so hard for Dean to accept the fact that she and Sam weren't going to let him die without a fight. Of all people, Dean should know that desperate times called for desperate measures. After all, he was the one who also turned to a crossroad demon for help.

A phone started ringing, breaking the silence. Sam reached for his phone and frowned. "It's not mine."

Dean went for his. "Nope."

"Check the glove compartment, maybe it's dad's," Emmy said.

Sam turned to her. "Dad's?"

Dean cleared his throat. "I keep it charged up in case any of his old contacts call."

Emmy listened as Sam answered the phone.

"Hello? Yes... this is Edgar Casey..." While Sam talked, he gestured for a pen and piece of paper.

Reaching in her bag, Emmy took out her notebook and a pencil. Sam thanked her with a quick wink and wrote down an address.

Sam ended the call and shot his siblings a questioning look. "Dad ever tell one of you he kept a container at a storage place? Outside of Buffalo?"

"Nope," Emmy replied, popping the 'p'.

"Well, someone just broke into it."

 **SPN**

Emmy wrinkled her nose at the moldy smell of the storage facility. Her fingers were wrapped around the bars of the elevator as it went up. She stuck her face through the cage to watch them go up when a hand suddenly pulled her away before she could get hurt.

Sam put her in front of him, his arms hanging around her shoulders from behind.

Emmy looked up at him and shot him a sheepish smile.

"Man..." Dean commented with a shake of his head.

"What?"

"Just Dad. You know him and his secrets. Spend all this time with the guy and it's like we barely even know the man."

Emmy locked her fingers with Sam's as she agreed in silence. After what happened with Azazel, she had thought she knew her dad, but she didn't. The man wasn't even her father, that alone made her see him in a different light. The thought that she wasn't a true Winchester suddenly made her feel so out of place. It made her wonder how her life would've been like if John hadn't raised her. Would she still know Sam and Dean?

John had told her Dean knew, which meant that Sam knew too, those two tell each other everything, but they never told her … They didn't even know she knew. Were they ever going to tell her?

Dean snapped his fingers in front of his sister's face, bringing her back to reality.

Emmy blinked. "Hmm?"

"You alright, sweetheart?"

She nodded, forcing a smile.

The elevator came to a stop and she took it upon her to go first, not wanting to give him a chance to ask any more questions.

They found the storage container and Dean unlocked the padlock. He opened the sliding door and Emmy was about to enter but both her brothers pushed her back, going in with flashlights at the ready.

Sam nudged his brother as he shined upon the floor of the container. A symbol was drawn in red, along with several bloody footsteps.

"No demons allowed."

Dean crouched down and fingered the red substance. "Blood."

"Can I go in now?" Emmy tapped her foot impatiently.

Dean extended his hand. She wasn't in the mood to argue so took it without question.

"Stay close and don't touch anything," he warned her as they carefully looked around.

Emmy tugged at Dean's hand and pointed at something. "It's a tripwire."

Sam turned to follow her gaze and indeed saw a tripwire. He was cautious as he followed the wire and saw that it was attached to a shotgun hidden in a large animal skull.

"Whoever broke in here got tagged."

Dean cracked a soft smile. "Dear old Dad." He pointed at something else with his flashlight. "I got two sets of boot treads here, looks like it was a two-man job. And our friend with the buckshot in him looks like he kept walking."

Emmy shivered at the blood prints on the floor. Dean's thumb brushed her knuckles and she felt touched by his way of comforting her. It was so second nature to him, there was no doubt he didn't even realize he was doing it.

"So what's the deal? Dad would do work here or something?" Sam looked around, wrinkling his nose at the smell.

"Living the high life, as usual," Dean commented dryly.

As they ventured further inside, Emmy briefly let go of her brother's hand and walked towards a desk. There was a stack of papers, it wasn't until she picked one up that she realized what they were. These were all her drawings, every one of them. She always wondered what he did with them, she didn't know why a part of her thought he'd simply thrown it away. A little smile tugged at her lips when she looked at her pictures – she sucked at it. There was one where she had drawn a big black box that was supposed to be the Impala, with the family standing in a row, from oldest to youngest.

Dean peaked over her shoulder, smiling when he saw the pictures she had drawn. "I can't believe he kept those." He went through them all and chuckled. "Wait, is this supposed to be me? Why'd you make my head so big?"

Emmy giggled. "Cause you're big-headed." She moved to another picture and snorted when she saw the funny way she wrote her name. "Look at this one."

He laughed. "Hey, Sammy remember this one? Emmy was five and they were teaching her how to write her name."

Sam came over and chuckled. "Oh this one's classic. _My name's not Mawy-Elisabeth_ ," both him and Dean said in a high pitched voice, even adding a lisp.

Dean laughed as he nudged Emmy. "You thought your real name was Emmy."

"Well, Mary-Elisabeth is a mouthful," she countered as she went through the rest of the pictures. She held up one and studied the sticky figure with a big blob of brown hair, holding a trophy. "Oh that's Sammy when he won his soccer trophy."

"Why'd you put my hair in pigtails?" Sam laughed.

"Cause your hair was really long, I always thought you were a girl," she giggled, shrieking when he briefly tickled her side.

Dean coughed when he waved some off the dust away. He picked something off the shelf and grinned. "Ah here it is, Sam. Your Division Championship soccer trophy."

Sam smiled, a mixture of shock and glee. "I can't believe he kept that all those years."

"Yeah... It was probably about the closest you ever came to being a boy," Dean joked.

Emmy giggled again. Sam gave her a serious look but she caught his lips twitch.

Dean stopped when something else caught his eye. "Oh, wow! It's my first sawed-off. I made it myself. Sixth grade." He seemed so giddy as he pumped the shotgun.

When Sam moved further into the container he found a door to a back room. The chain had been cut. The brothers carefully entered, passing their flashlight over the scene.

"Holy crap," Dean mumbled.

Curious too, Emmy tried to wriggle herself in between them but didn't get much further when they both held their arms out. She tried not to roll her eyes at their protective behavior.

Dean took in all the stuff. "Look at this, he had land mines which they didn't take. Or the guns. I guess they knew what they were after, huh?"

When the coast seemed clear, Emmy managed to push off their arms enough for her to explore further. She almost jumped out of her skin when she caught a spider crawl on one of the shelves. That's when she noticed the strange boxes with some weird symbols inscribed on them. She picked one up and was surprised that it didn't weigh that much. She blew the dust away and inspected it closer, she tried to open it but it was locked. She shook it once to hear if there was anything inside.

"Emmy don't touch that!" Sam yelled.

Startled, she let out a surprised scream, dropping the box.

Dean grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the boxes. "I told you not to touch anything."

"It's just a box," she said meekly.

"Not just a box." Sam moved his flashlight up at the other similar boxes on the shelf. "Those symbols … That's binding magic. These are curse boxes."

"Curse boxes?" Emmy repeated, her eyes wide in fear. She found herself rubbing her hands down her jeans.

Dean looked concerned. " They're supposed to keep the evil mojo in, right, kinda like the Pandora deal?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, they're built to contain the power of the cursed object."

"Well Dad's journal did mention a whole bunch of stuff, you know? Dangerous hexed items, fetishes ... He never did say where they ended up."

Sam huffed. "Yeah, well this must be his toxic waste dump." He noticed a rectangular shape in the dust and ran his finger along the empty space. "One box is missing... Great."

"Well maybe they didn't open it." Dean sounded hopeful.

"I'm I cursed now?" Emmy asked softly, eyebrows bunched up in concern.

Sam noticed Emmy still frantically wiping off her hands. "Honey, it's alright. You didn't touch the stuff inside so you're good."

"So I'm not cursed?"

"You're not cursed, sweetheart." Dean shot her a reassuring smile, casually poking her nose. "C'mon let's get outta here."

 **SPN**

Dean pulled up in an alley beside an apartment block, parking right next to another car. He leaned out of the window and checked the car's plate.

"Connecticut. Last three digits 880."

Sam nodded. "Yep, that's it."

Dean clicked his tongue. "Should've blacked out their plates before they parked in front of the security camera..."

Sam turned in his seat to face Emmy and before he could speak, she cut him off.

"I know, I know. Stay in the car, don't move, don't breathe. I got it."

Dean fixed her with a pointed look. "None of that crap you pulled last week, do you hear me?"

"To be fair, you're the one that forgot to lock the car, so …"

He chuckled dryly. "Oh so now it's my fault?"

She lifted up her small shoulders. "Just pointing it out."

"Don't get smart with me."

Sam rolled his eyes, it was so easy for Dean to get riled up. "Dude, c'mon. She'll stay put, right Emmy?"

She smiled innocently and nodded.

Dean grunted something about pretty girls and their pretty smiles. He made a show of locking up the Impala, shooting his sister his own version of a smile that said _satisfied?_

Emmy rolled down her window and poked her head out. "I can still just crawl out of the window you know."

"Don't you dare – "

"Dean!" Sam grabbed his brother and yanked him away from the Impala. "She's just messing with you."

"Emmy, you better roll that frikkin' window up again!"

Emmy stuck her tongue out at him. She watched bemusedly as Sam practically dragged Dean into the apartment. It wasn't until they were gone that her smile fell. _Gone –_ soon Dean will be _gone_.

She threw her head back against the seat and forced the tears back.

She didn't know how long she'd been sitting like that until she heard a gunshot, or at least it sounded like one. Emmy slid to the other side of the car and peeked out of the window at the apartment building. Another shot rang in her ears and worry started to gnaw at her. Ten minutes later her brothers walked out and Emmy frowned.

"What happened to you two?"

Dean sighed. "Didn't I tell you to close that window?"

"You got some blood over here." She pointed at the corner of her lip. "So you found the missing box?"

Sam buckled up first and held up the box.

"What was inside of it?" she asked, curious.

Sam opened it and picked out something that looked like a –

"A rabbit's foot?" Emmy cringed. She reached out to touch it but Sam slapped her hand away. "How come _you_ can touch it?"

"We don't know what it does yet, Emmy," Dean answered as he revved up the car.

She inched closer to Sam, resting her chin on his shoulder. "You said I was lucky I didn't touch the stuff inside the box." She pushed his long hair away from his ear, whispering, "What if you're cursed now?"

Sam scoffed. "I'm not cursed."

"I think he's blessed," Dean smirked, remembering how easy it had been to take those two guys out – that wouldn't have happened if it weren't for a bit of luck. Little did he know that good luck always came with bad luck.

 **SPN**

Emmy was sitting on the hood of the Impala when Dean came out of the convenience store with a paper bag in his hands.

He grinned as he took out the items, handing one over to Emmy.

"Lottery tickets? Really?"

"Let's start scratching, baby," he winked.

"Alright, then." Emmy slid off the Impala, forgetting about being careful for leaving scratches on his baby.

She earned a disapproving look from Dean. "I meant the cards, not my car."

"Sorry," she apologized sheepishly.

Sam nearly dropped their dad's journal when Emmy crawled over his lap to the middle of the front seat. "I'm not finding anything on it in Dad's journal," he said.

Dean held up the scratching cards and wiggled his eyebrows, excited.

"Dean, come on."

"What?! Hey, that was my gun he was aiming at your head, and my gun don't jam. So that was a lucky break. Not to mention them taking themselves out, also a lucky break," he pointed out. "Here, scratch one. C'mon Sam, scratch and win!"

Dean handed him a coin and card.

"Dean, it's gotta be cursed somehow. Otherwise Dad wouldn't have locked it up," Sam said as he scratched his. He gave it back to Dean.

Dean's eyes nearly popped out of his face. "1200 dollars... You just won 1200 dollars!"

Emmy grabbed another one out of the bag, handing it over to her brother. "Here, Sammy. Try this one."

He reluctantly did as she asked and Emmy's eyes grew as she saw the amount of money.

"Whoa." She turned to Dean. "3000! He got 3000, Dean!"

"I don't know, man, it doesn't seem that cursed to me!" he hollered.

Emmy picked out another ticket and gave it to Sam. "If you win this one, can I get my own laptop? For my birthday."

 **SPN**

 _"_ _You touched it? Damn it, Sam!"_

Sam winced, holding the phone away from his ear. "Now look Bobby, we didn't know."

" _You idjits!"_

"Oh, man!" Dean suddenly hollered from across the parking lot.

Sam turned around to see his brother laying out the scratch cards on the hood of the Impala, calculating their winnings.

"We're rich!" Dean laughed. He grabbed Emmy, taking her by surprise as he pressed a hard kiss on her cheek.

Sam exhaled heavily, turning back to Bobby. "Well Dad never told us about this thing. I mean you knew about his storage place at Black Rock?"

" _His lockup? Yeah, I knew. Hell I built those curse boxes for him. Listen, you have got a serious problem."_

Something shiny under a newspaper caught Sam's attention. He pushed it away with his foot only to find a gold watch. How much luck can a person get?

" _That rabbit's foot ain't no dime store notion_ ," Bobby continued.

Sam picked up the watch and held it up, showing it to his siblings.

Emmy nudged Dean who mouthed ' _Awesome!'._

 _"_ _It's real Hoodoo, Old World stuff_ ," Bobby said. " _Made by a Baton Rouge conjure woman about a hundred years ago."_

Sam snorted. "It's a hell of a luck charm."

 _"_ _It's not a luck charm, it's a curse!"_ Bobby exclaimed. _"She made it to kill people, Sam!"_

Sam froze.

 _"_ _See, you touch it, you own it. You own it, sure, you get a run of good luck to beat the Devil,"_ Bobby started. " _But – "_

Why must there always be a 'but'? Sam wondered.

 _"_ _If you lose it, that luck turns. It turns so bad that you're dead inside a week."_

"So I won't lose it, Bobby." But even as Sam said it, he knew it could never be that easy.

" _EVERYBODY LOSES IT!"_ Bobby shouted.

Sam groaned. "Well, then, how do we break the curse?"

 _"_ _I don't know if you can. Lemme look through my library and make some calls. Just sit tight."_

Sam hung up and blew out a sigh of uncertainty.

"Dude! We're up fifteen grand!" Dean shouted loudly.

Emmy put her hands over her ears. "No need to shout it to the world."

" _Fifteen grand!"_ Dean laughed.

Sam only gave a thumbs up as he walked towards the diner.

Emmy walked over to him, grabbing his hand. "What's wrong?" she asked as soon as they entered the Biggerson's restaurant.

"You were right. I _am_ cursed."

Emmy instantly let go of his hand.

Sam couldn't help but chuckle, "Don't worry it's not contagious."

"Sorry," she muttered.

"I'm sure Bobby'll find a way to break it." Dean didn't seem concerned in the least bit. "Until then I say we hit Vegas, pull a little Rain Man. You can be Rain Man."

Emmy looked up at him, shrugging her hair out of her face. "You said you'd take me to Disneyland."

Dean pushed her bangs out of her eyes. "We can go to Disneyland afterwards. We can make a road trip out of it. How's that sound huh?"

"Look, we just lay low until Bobby calls back, okay?" Sam was cautious and didn't want karma to hit them like a truck. He turned to the restaurant owner. "Hi, uh, table for three please."

A loud alarm suddenly went off and Emmy nearly jumped out of her skin when balloons and streamers seemed to fall out of nowhere.

"You are the one millionth guest of the Biggerson's Restaurant family!" the man announced, pushing a big check into their hands.

While Emmy and Sam looked embarrassed when the staff started singing and taking photographs, Dean was ecstatic. Free food for a year? The oldest Winchester couldn't be happier.

 **SPN**

Emmy pulled a face as she watched Dean devour an entire bowl of ice cream. His _third_ bowl. He had already ordered a steak burger with fries and a chocolate milkshake which he all inhaled like it was merely air.

"Dean," she said, "don't forget to breathe."

He looked up at her, spoon in mouth. "Want some?"

"I already ate mine."

"You can have more, it's free."

She patted her stomach. "I'm good."

"Bobby's right," Sam said, scrolling down on his laptop. "This lore goes way back. Pure Hoodoo. You can't just cut one off any rabbit. Has to be in a cemetery, under a full moon, on a Friday the thirteenth."

"I think from now on, we only go to places with Biggerson's." Dean winced when he was struck with brain freeze.

Emmy rolled her eyes and turned to Sam. "So how long will your luck last?"

"Until I lose it."

"What happens then?"

"Bad luck," he answered curtly, hoping she wouldn't dig any deeper.

She leaned in. "How bad?"

"Uhm, r-really bad … " If luck was really on his side, his sister wouldn't get to the bottom of it.

Emmy's eyes grew in realization. "Bad as in … _death_?"

Sam caught the quiver in her voice and reached out to grab her hand. "Hey, I still have the rabbit's foot, it's right here in my pocket. Nothing's gonna happen to me."

"But what if you lose it?" she questioned, her voice soft.

"I won't lose it, honey. I promise."

"Sammy will be just fine." Dean offered her a spoonful of his ice cream. "Here, this'll cheer you up in no time."

"I don't want it." Emmy pushed his hand away before addressing Sam again. "Can I see it? The rabbit's foot."

Sam was about to retrieve it out of his jacket but was interrupted when a waitress appeared at their table. "Can I freshen you up?"

"Yeah, yeah sure. Thanks," he smiled tightly.

The waitress poured some more coffee. But she was too busy smiling at him, eying him up when the coffee suddenly spilled.

"Oh!" She gasped. "Let me mop up here."

Sam looked uncomfortable when she tried to clean up, patting him down. "No, no don't worry it's okay, It's okay- I got it, uh..."

"It's no trouble, really," she insisted, nervous. "Sorry about that."

"It's all right." He offered her one of his special smiles that always seemed to melt the opposite sex.

Dean caught Emmy's eye, cracking a smug smile, hinting at the flirtatious exchange.

The waitress finished cleaning up the mess and walked away, but not before throwing a suggestive smile over her shoulder.

Dean chuckled. "Dude. If you were ever gonna get lucky..."

Sam smirked. "Shut up."

Emmy drummed her fingers alongside the table, impatient. "Sammy, the rabbit's foot."

"Oh right." Sam went to grab it from his pocket but somehow ended up knocking over his coffee in the process. He tried to catch it last minute but his attempt only resulted into him spilling Dean's bowl and the ice cream splashed all over his clothes.

Sam jumped out of his seat and turned right as a waiter walked by. He ran straight into the guy, sending more food and drinks flying into the air.

Sam held his hands up. "Sorry! Sorry!""

Emmy looked at her brother causing a scene, her mouth open in shock.

Dean was equally shocked. "How was that good?"

"Sammy?" Emmy's mouth suddenly turned dry, almost too scared to ask. "The rabbit's foot?"

Sam searched his jacket pocket but came up empty.

"Son of a bitch."

 **SPN**

"Sammy's gonna die," Emmy cried as soon as they stepped out of the restaurant.

"We're gonna get it back, sweetheart," Dean tried to reassure her. A drop of ice cream coated her chin from when Sam knocked over his bowl. He reached out to wipe it away, licking off his thumb, savoring the sweet taste. "I'm gonna miss this."

"Dean!" Emmy smacked his stomach. "Can you not think about food for one second? Sammy's gonna die!"

"Emmy, I'm not gonna – " Sam didn't get to finish his sentence when he fell flat on his face.

Dean slowed down, looking unimpressed. "Wow. You suck."

Emmy helped him get their brother back up.

Sam looked down at his skinned knees, his jeans torn. "Ow …"

"I knew it," Emmy mumbled.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Knew what?"

"It was too good to be true," she voiced out bitterly as she started for the Impala.

"Emmy don't say that," Dean said.

She smiled sadly. "You're Winchesters, luck and Winchester don't go together."

Dean opened his mouth to respond when he suddenly realized something. Did she just say _'You're Winchesters'_? She was a Winchester too. His stomach dropped at the possibility of her knowing the truth about John. But that was impossible – no one knew except himself and Sam. Maybe this was a coincidence, a wrong choice of words on her part.

Dean turned to Sam to check if he had heard the slip too – but Sam was too busy watching his steps before he'd make out with the ground again.

 **SPN**

Emmy yawned as she lay back in the backseat of the Impala. It was getting dark and she was getting tired. She looked up at the ceiling and pretended it was the night sky. If she pressed her eyes shut for several seconds, little white spots dotted her vision, twinkling like shiny stars. But it never lasted too long, soon her vision cleared and she was looking back up at the ceiling of the car.

She found herself doing that a lot – pretending. When she'd sleep, snuggling up with Johnny, she'd hide her face in the fur, taking in the smell of her dad – pretending he was there with her. When she'd take a bath, she'd close her eyes and move her hands in the water, creating small waves – pretending she was swimming in a blue ocean, on an island which name she couldn't pronounce. She'd pretend everything was fine … and that Dean wasn't going to die.

Emmy let out a shaky breath. She pinched her eyes shut and willed herself to keep pretending. Sometimes it helped to fool herself, it was better than facing the truth.

A sudden ring brought her back to reality though, and she sat up. The sound came from the front seat. Emmy leaned over the seat and found Dean's phone – it probably slid out of his pocket. She picked it up and cracked a tiny smile when Bobby's name flashed on the screen.

"Hey, uncle Bobby!"

" _Emmy, always nice to hear your sweet voice. How're you doin' darlin'?"_

"Good, I guess. I've been better," she admitted as she crawled to the front seat. Dean's voice rang in the back of her head, warning her to watch out for the upholstery. "How's Rumsfeld?"

" _I'm great, thanks for asking."_

"I was saving the best for the last." She giggled. "How are you uncle Bobby?"

He laughed heartily. " _I'm getting older and wider instead of older and wiser."_

"Dean said that you're not old until happy hour is nap hour."

" _Well, I think I'm heading in that direction,"_ he joked. He cleared his throat and Emmy could practically hear him swallow down the lightheartedness. " _Speaking of Dean, how're you really doin' Emmy?"_

She twisted her mouth, still not comfortable with the constant reminder of her brother's deal. "It's awful, uncle Bobby. It's like he couldn't care less. He's seriously pushing my buttons and it won't be long before I'll snap."

" _He's just putting up a front cause he doesn't want you to worry."_

"Of course I'm gonna worry about it! He's gonna die in eleven months and two weeks!" she bit her bottom lip, exhaling slowly through her nose as she composed herself. "And now Sammy's gonna die too."

" _Hey now, Sam's not gonna die. I promise ya,"_ his gruff voice soothed. " _Where are those knuckleheads?"_

Emmy looked out of the window of the Impala. "They're trynna figure out who the lady was that stole the rabbit's foot."

 _"_ _I thought some guys took it._ "

"Oh, um yeah they did … at first. But then Sam found it and he kinda – "

" _HE LOST IT!?"_

Emmy winced but breathed out in relief when she spotted her brothers walking out of the apartment building. "Oh would you look at that, they're back. Here I'll let them explain everything to you."

She got out of the car, her sneakers making a crunching sound as they met the ground.

Dean tsk'd in disapproval. "What part of stay in the car don't you understand, Emmy?"

Emmy refrained from rolling her eyes. "You make it sound like there's monsters out there who only go after girls that won't stay in the car."

Dean looked around the dark alley. Unfortunately there were some _monsters_ out there who preyed on little girls. He forced the thought to the back of his head before the disgust and anger surfaced.

"Here, uncle Bobby's on the phone." She handed him his phone. "Oh and he's not happy."

Dean had half a mind to hang up, not in the mood for the lecture that was to come. "Hello?"

Emmy walked over to Sam. "How're you holding up?"

Sam looked miserable. He had cuts all over, his hair was all over the place, his clothes disheveled.

She smiled sadly. "You need a hug?"

He chuckled softly and spread his arms. Emmy jumped into his embrace, holding him tightly. "You'll be just fine, Sammy," she reassured with a kiss on the cheek.

Sam groaned.

"What's wrong?"

He looked down and lifted his foot up. "I think I stepped on a large wad of pink bubblegum."

Emmy bit her tongue to contain her laughter. "Aww, Sammy."

Sam put her down and scratched the sole of his shoe against a broken storm drain.

Meanwhile, Dean was still being chewed out by Bobby. "Bobby, Bobby, listen. This, uh, this hot chick stole it from him. I'm serious. In her mid 20's, and she was sharp you know, good enough at the con to play us. And she only gave the guy she hired a name, probably an alias or something. Uh, Luigi or something?"

 _Luigi?_ Emmy mouthed.

"Lugosi," Sam corrected, still scraping his shoe off.

Dean snapped his fingers. "Yeah, Lugosi."

Emmy watched as Sam still tried to rid of the bubblegum. "Sammy, you might wanna stop before – "

As if on cue, Sam moved his foot too hard, dislodging his shoe. A splashing sound resonated through the sewers when the shoe dropped.

Sam looked up at Emmy with a face that said it all – _are you frikkin' kidding me right now_?

Emmy didn't know if she should feel bad or just laugh. She sighed when he tried to retrieve it. "Sammy, just leave it. It's gonna be all dirty and smelly anyway."

"So Bela Talbot's her real name," Dean said, still on the phone and still oblivious to the whole shoe fiasco. "Alright. Thanks, Bobby. Again."

Dean turned around and looked back at his siblings. Sam looked thoroughly dejected while Emmy hugged his arm in a show of sympathy.

"What?"

Sam hung his head. "I lost my shoe."

 **SPN**

Dean unlocked the door to the motel room and turned the lights on. "All right, Bobby's got it on pretty good authority that this Bela chick lives in Queens. So it'll take me about two hours to get there."

Emmy went straight for one of the beds. She threw herself on it, bouncing. Man, she was exhausted.

Sam furrowed his brows. "So what are we doing here?"

Dean put a hand on his shoulder. "You, my brother, are staying here 'cause I don't want your bad luck getting us killed."

"What am I even supposed to do, Dean?"

"Nothing! Nothing. Come here. I don't want you doing anything. I want you to sit right here." Dean pulled a chair into the middle of the room and pushed him down. "And don't move, OK? Don't turn on the light, don't turn off the light. Don't even scratch your nose."

"What about me?" Emmy asked.

Dean walked over to where she was sitting on the bed and crouched down in front of her. "You're on babysitting duty, sweetheart. I'm putting you in charge. You make sure Sam stays put."

Emmy blew out a raspberry. "Sounds boring."

Dean patted her knee. "I'll be right back, just stay right here and look pretty. Oh and call me if Sam's not listening to you." He kissed her forehead before standing back up. He shot a last warning look at Sam before leaving the room, locking the door behind him.

Sam wrinkled his nose, suddenly having an irritating urge to deal with an itch. He risked to raise his hand but Emmy was quick to stop him.

"Hey! What did Dean just tell you?"

"My nose itches," he pouted.

Emmy dragged herself out of the bed. She scratched his nose for him. "Good?"

"More to the left."

"Like this?"

"No, _my_ left."

She rolled her eyes. This was going to be a very long night.

 **SPN**

Arriving at Bela's apartment, Dean had no trouble getting in. Maybe Sam's luck was still rubbing off on him.

A tall brunette was talking on the phone, she seemed to be deep into the conversation because she didn't even notice him walk in. It wasn't until the alarm panel flashed ERROR that she knew something was up. She noticed the door to her apartment was slightly ajar. Putting her phone down and grabbing her gun instead, she slowly approached the door.

"You left without your tip," Dean smirked, cocking his own gun.

Bela turned around, meeting his eye. To his surprise she met his smug expression with one of her own.

"You're gonna give it back," he said, referring to the rabbit's foot.

She laughed. "Sweetie. No I'm not."

Dean wet his lips. "Yeah, we'll see. Bela, right?"

"That's right. Dean."

Dean thought that under that complacent facade, she definitely was a looker. Under different circumstances, he wouldn't have hesitated to ask her number. But she was a con and she wouldn't hesitate to kick his ass.

"You know the thing's cursed, don't you?"

She smiled sweetly. "You'd be surprised what some people would pay for something like that."

"Really?"

"There's a lucrative market out there. A lot of money to be made. You Hunters with all those amulets and talismans you use to stop those big bad monsters. Any one of them could put your children's children through college," she said with an air of nonchalance, as if she was merely pointing out the sky was blue.

Dean didn't lower his gun though. "So you know the truth, about what's really going on out there, and this is what you decide to do with it? You become a thief?"

"I procure unique items for a select clientele."

He scoffed. "Yeah. A thief."

"No, a _great_ thief."

 **SPN**

Sam yawned, watching the credits roll on the tv screen. He and Emmy decided to watch some movies to kill time, he didn't think he could do anything wrong with that. They even ordered – well, _she_ ordered Chinese food and Sam had to admit that a lazy night in bed wasn't too bad after all.

Emmy was long asleep, sprawled out in his lap. A fond smile tugged at his lips when he plucked a popcorn out of her hair. He grabbed the remote and lazily flicked through the channels. Cable tv sucked. But Dean was loud and clear and Sam wasn't about to push his luck so he accepted it. He was playing with Emmy's hair when she suddenly woke up with a start.

"Hey, you okay?"

She looked around, momentarily confused about her whereabouts. Sam saw the lines on her face visibly relax as realization hit her.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she mumbled sleepily as she rubbed her eyes. "I can't believe I fell asleep. I'm the worst baby sitter ever."

"You're lucky I'm not a helpless baby," Sam chuckled, pulling her closer and letting her rest her head on his chest. "You're tired, go to sleep, Emmy."

Emmy rested her arm around his waist, enjoying the beat of his heart against her ear. "I'm not gonna let you die too, Sammy."

 _Too._

Sam didn't fail to miss that word, a simple word that said so much. He hadn't thought how this might've affected his sister. He was so certain they'd solve the case before it became the death of him. He was so convinced that this would end on a positive note. He felt such a child believing he was invincible like some hero just because he always managed to survive so far. But nothing could be further from the truth because he _had died_ once, who said it couldn't happen again? And Dean, well Dean came face to face with death way too many times, he just always managed to barely escape from kicking the bucket. But not now, now he was truly going to die.

"Hey, you never told me what happened that night."

Emmy frowned. "What night?"

"That night I …" _Please don't make me say it._

"Oh." She gulped. She hadn't prepared this and frankly, she wasn't ready for it either. A lot happened when she was with Azazel in that cabin. And a lot happened when she was with Gabriel and John. Emmy needed time to find the right words to tell the entire story. "Uhm, I'll tell you when I feel ready."

"That's alright." Sam nodded, stroking her arm up and down. He wasn't going to push her. He found out that if he respected her tempo and took everything slow she was less likely to close off and shut him off. The fact that she didn't pull away from him right now was a step in the right direction, he was never going to take this for granted again.

"I need to go to the bathroom," she said, sitting up and going for her bag for a change of clothes. "Don't go anywhere."

He put up his hands in surrender. "Not moving."

"I'll only be gone for two minutes." She held his eyes, an amused glint in her blue orbs as she made her way over to the bathroom. "Two minutes."

Sam threw a pillow at her but he missed and it ended up knocking over an old painting on the wall.

"Wow, you really do suck," she giggled before entering the bathroom.

Sam grabbed his phone and checked for any missed calls or texts from Dean. Suddenly, the AC unit in the wall started making a clunking, grinding sound. Sam brushed it off, trying to ignore it even though he was dying to give it a good smack, that ought to fix it. But when smoke suddenly started pouring out, he made a sound of despair.

"Oh come on, I- I didn't- I wasn't..."

He got up and cautiously approached the unit. He remembered Emmy's warning but it wasn't like he was going to let his ten year old sister fix the air-conditioning. And when the thing caught on fire, Sam didn't hesitate for a second. He grabbed the comforter from one of the beds and used it to put out the fire. It seemed to have worked and the flames were down, or so he thought. His jacket sleeve now was on fire. Panicking, he grabbed the first thing he could put his hand on which was the curtain.

 _"_ _Sammy, you okay?"_ Emmy called out from behind the bathroom door, hearing the commotion.

"Y-yes!" he shouted, even though the curtain ripped and fell away, revealing two men staring back at him through the window.

Sam frowned but didn't get the chance to act upon it when he suddenly tripped, knocking himself out.

" _Sammy?"_ Emmy yelled again. When she didn't get an answer, she emerged from the bathroom with her dirty clothes in her hands. Seeing Sam knocked out cold on the floor, her stomach dropped. "Sammy!"

She dropped her clothes and knelt next to him. She patted his cheeks, trying to wake him up but he wouldn't respond. Emmy ran to grab her phone to call Dean when the door suddenly slammed open. She jumped, panic flashing in her eyes when she saw two guys standing in the doorway. Something in her told her to run and get help but one of the men was too quick. He caught her around the waist before she could get anywhere.

"Oh hey where're you goin', sweetie?" Creedy laughed.

"Get off of me!" Emmy flailed her limbs about, even managing to successfully punch her capturer in the face.

He groaned in pain but didn't let go. "Wow, little kitten got claws."

"Let me go!" she shouted before screaming bloody murder. "HELLLLLLLP!" John always used to say _'If you think you're losing a fight, you scream as loud as you can until the only thing you're losing is your voice'._

Kubrick moved over to her and shut her up with a strip of duct tape. "Sorry, doll."

Emmy glared at him and he just patted her cheek with a victorious wink.

 **SPN**

Emmy felt stiff and uncomfortable in the chair. Her wrists kinda hurt from the duct tape painfully sticking onto her skin. There was also an annoying piece of her hair dangling in front of her eyes and no matter how many times she moved her head around, it always came back taunting her. There was also the smell of something burnt hanging around in the air and it tickled the back of her throat, making her want to cough which was hard with your mouth glued shut.

She watched as one of the men restrained Sam to a chair next to her. She learned his name was Creedy, the same one that grabbed her before she couldn't make an escape. The other one was Kubrick, he was currently standing across the room. She didn't like the way he looked at her and Sam – as if he was trying to see through them. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Sam groaned, finally coming to.

"Oh, he's awake!" Creedy cheered.

"Back with us, eh?" Kubrick grinned.

"We didn't even have to touch you. You just went all spastic, and knocked yourself out. It was like watching Jerry Lewis try to stack chairs!" Creedy laughed. "This little lady though, sure put one hell of a fight. Oh and she got one set of loud lungs on her, too. Isn't that right, hun."

Emmy tried to lean away when the man touched her cheek.

"Don't touch her!" Sam felt the duct tape restraining him as he bristled. "Who are you? What do you want?"

Kubrick crossed his arms over his chest. "I used to think your friend Gordon sent me."

" _Gordon_?" Emmy repeated in disbelief, even though it came out muffled.

Sam clenched his teeth. He couldn't believe this either. "Gordon? Oh come on!"

"Yeah, because he asked me to track you down, and put a bullet in your brain."

Sam chuckled sarcastically. "Great. That sounds like him."

"But, as it turns out ... I'm on a mission from God." Kubrick approached Sam and suddenly struck him across the face, knocking him out. Again.

" _Hey!"_ Emmy shot daggers at the man. " _What's wrong with you?_ "

"I'm sorry what?" Kubrick leaned closer to her. "You gonna have to talk more clearly, buttercup."

Creedy grabbed a glass of water and threw it in Sam's face. Sam gasped as he woke up, shaking the water off. Blood coated his nose and a bruise was starting to color his cheek. He turned his head, checking if his sister was alright.

Her eyes shined with concern and unshed tears. _You okay?_

His lips were pulled into a tight lipped smile. "Hang on, I got this," he whispered, barely audible.

Emmy doubted it. Sam was cursed, remember?

Kubrick sat down on one of the beds, his hands folded. "You were a part of that demon plan to open the gate weren't you?"

Sam sighed. "We did everything we could to stop it."

"Lie lie lie!" he shouted causing Emmy to flinch. "You were in on it. You know what their next move is too, don't you?"

"No, I don't, okay? You're wrong about all of this."

Kubrick narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Where are they gonna hit us next?" When Sam didn't respond, the man punched him again. "WHERE?! Gordon told me about you, Sam. About your powers. You're some kinda weirdo psychic freak?"

Sam shook his head, breathing heavily. "No, not any more. I – no powers, no visions, nothing, it just—"

"And what about you?" Kubrick turned to Emmy who froze. He put a hand on each armrest and leaned in, studying every inch of her face. "What's so special about you, huh?"

"Hey, get away from her – " Sam started to say, only to receive another punch to the face.

"SHUTUP! Now no more lies. There's an army of demons out there pushing at a world already on the brink. We're on deck for the endgame here, right? So maybe, just maybe you can understand … " Kubrick slowly drew his gun, "why we can't take chances."

Emmy fought her restraints when he pointed the gun at Sam. She was violently tugging at her arms and legs, her chair wiggling.

Sam gulped, nervous. "Whoa, okay, okay, no, don't— hold on a minute!"

Creedy put out a hand. "Hey, Kubrick just—"

"No, you saw what happened, Creedy." Kubrick's face was set, his mind was set. "Ask yourself, why are we here? Because you saw a picture on the web? Because we chose this motel instead of another? Luck like that doesn't just happen."

"Look, I can explain all of that," Sam stammered.

"Shut up!" Kubrick turned his gun to Emmy. "You, stop frikkin' moving!"

Emmy whimpered, sitting still. A silent tear of fear rolled down her cheek, her entire small body trembling as she eyed the barrel of the gun pointed at her. Kubrick's finger was dangerously close to the trigger.

"Whoa, hey, _hey_!" Sam growled.

Creedy's eyes widened. "Kubrick! Not the kid, man!"

Beads of sweat peppered Kubrick's forehead. He turned back to Sam. "It's God, Creedy. He led us here for one reason. To do His work. This ... is destiny." He aimed the gun point blank at Sam's forehead.

Emmy closed her eyes, her chest heaving with sobs. Sam was going to die. Soon that monster will pull the trigger and Sam will be gone. And soon, Dean will be gone too. And all she could do was stand by and watch it happen – utterly helpless. She wasn't a Winchester, a true Winchester would've fought and not given up.

"Nope. No destiny. Just a rabbit's foot."

Emmy lifted up her head at the familiar voice. _Dean._

The oldest Winchester cocked his gun.

Kubrick tensed. "Put the gun down, son, or you're gonna be scraping brain off the wall."

"Oh, this thing?" Dean waved around the weapon like it was some harmless toy.

"Yeah, that thing."

"Okay. But you see, there's something about me that you don't know." Dean put his gun down on the dresser and picked up a pen sitting next to it.

Emmy was confused. This wasn't some game!

Kubrick shared a look with Creedy. "Yeah? What would that be?"

"It's my lucky day." Dean looked smug. He tossed the pen towards Kubrick and it magically lodged itself in the barrel of his gun. Dean laughed. "Oh my God, did you see that shot!"

Sam was impressed.

Creedy lunged at Dean.

" _Dean!"_ Emmy tried to warn her brother through the duct tape.

Dean easily side-stepped and Creedy ran straight into the wall, falling backwards and hitting the floor. Kubrick stared at the pen in the barrel for a few moments, puzzled. He tried to dislodge it.

"I'm amazing," Dean smirked. He picked up the tv remote from the bed and threw it hard at Kubrick, hitting him right between the eyes, knocking him out cold.

Dean winked at Emmy. "I'm Batman."

"Yeah. You're Batman," was Sam's sarcastic response.

 **SPN**

"Alright, count to three."

" _One_ – " Emmy mumbled when Dean suddenly peeled the tape off her mouth. "Oww!"

"Sorry baby. Want me to kiss it better?" he teased.

She pushed his face away. "Eww, get off."

He chuckled. He still pecked her cheek though, managing to steal a kiss.

"So you got the rabbit's foot?" Sam asked from the bathroom where he was cleaning himself up.

Dean stepped over Kubrick's body and gathered their stuff. "Yeah, and Bobby found a heavyweight cleansing ritual that should do the trick."

Sam looked less roughed up as he entered the room. "We should get going before these two wake up."

"Yeah, come on let's go." Dean grabbed his keys and their bags. "Emmy, don't forget your coat."

Sam fetched it for her and was about to give it to her when she suddenly flung herself at him. Startled, his arms dropped to hold her before she'd knock both of them to the floor. Sam shot his brother a surprised look but Dean's eyes softened as he understood.

Sam caught on and engulfed her in his embrace. He almost died today, she almost _saw_ him get killed. He couldn't imagine how scared she must've been.

He rubbed her trembling back and dropped a lingering kiss on top of her head. He didn't think she needed him to say anything so he just let her hold her, letting her check in her own way that he was still very much alive. He felt a wet spot on his shirt and his heart stung as he realized she was crying, her face buried in his stomach.

She held him for a full minute, and neither Dean or Sam dared to break the moment even though they were on a tight schedule.

Emmy eventually let go. She sniffed, collecting herself. Using the back of her hands to wipe away the traces of wet tears on her cheeks, she let out a shaky breath. Grabbing her coat out of Sam's hand, she put it on and left the room without another word.

Sam and Dean stood still for a few seconds, letting it all sink in, before following their sister out of the room.

 **SPN**

Emmy never got used to cemetery's – day or night, there was always a cold, shrill air hanging around. You were surrounded by death, a lot of death, _too much_ death. As if she didn't already had enough of that.

"All right," Sam grunted. He had finished sprinkling the secret ingredients onto the embers of a small fire. "Bone ash, cayenne pepper, that should do it."

"One second...," Dean mumbled, scratching a few more cards. Emmy was right, Winchesters and luck didn't go together, he might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

"Dean, you—"

"Hey, back off, Jinx. I'm bringing home the bacon." Dean grinned as he stashed the cards in his jacket which was slung over gravestone.

He grabbed the rabbit's foot and held it above the fire. "All right, say goodbye "wascawy wabbit".

Emmy caught a movement from behind her brothers. "Dean, Sammy," she alerted.

At the sound of a gun cocking, the brothers turned around.

"I think you'll find that belongs to me. Or, you know, whatever." Bela indicated for the rabbit's foot. "Put the foot down, honey."

Dean wasn't having any of it. "No. You're not going to shoot anybody. See I happen to be able to read people. OK, you're a thief, fine, but you're not—"

Bela aimed at Sam and fired.

"Sammy!" Emmy helped Sam get back up. He was clutching his left shoulder, blood coating his hand. "It's okay, it's just your shoulder," she said, her voice trembling. She couldn't help but think how dangerously close the wound was to his heart, if this Bela had aimed a couple inches more to the right …

Dean looked shocked, not having expected her to pull that kinda move. "Son of a—"

"Back off, tiger. Back off. You make one more move and I'll pull the trigger."

"What is _wrong_ with you?" both Emmy and Dean cried at the same time.

"You don't just go around shooting people like that!" Dean growled.

Bela rolled her eyes. "Relax. It's a shoulder hit, I can aim. Besides, who here hasn't shot a few people? Put the rabbit's foot on the ground now."

"All right! All right," he gave in. "Take it easy."

Dean went to drop the rabbit's foot, but instead threw it at her. "Think fast!"

Reflex made her catch the foot and she cursed. "Damn!"

Dean smiled in satisfaction. "Now, what do you say we destroy that ugly-ass piece of dead thing?"

They ended up destroying the rabbit's foot. Emmy had taken off her scarf and used it to press it against Sam's shoulder. He shot her a grateful smile.

"Thanks very much. I'm out one and a half million, and on the bad side of a very powerful, fairly psychotic buyer."

"Can't say I feel bad about that," Emmy muttered under her breath.

"Me neither," Dean agreed, apparently she wasn't as quiet as she thought she was. "You, Sam?"

He grimaced as his wound stung. "Nope. Not even a little."

Bela smiled sarcastically. "Hmm. Maybe next time I'll hang you out to dry."

"Oh don't go away angry, just go away," Dean called after her as she started to leave.

"Have a nice night, boys and girl."

Dean turned to Sam. "You good?"

Sam looked down at Emmy. "I'll live."

She half-smiled, leaning against his good arm.

"I guess we're back to normal now, huh? No good luck, no bad luck."

"Don't forget the scratch tickets," Emmy reminded him.

His face lit up. "Oh! I forgot we're up 46000 dollars." He searched his jacket, his hand going in every pocket but he came up empty.

Bela's car roared in the distance and Emmy prepared for the coming outburst. Looking back at it now, it wasn't the money that was going to make them happy anyway. A trip to Disneyland, a new computer, all the candy in the world – she'd choose her family kicking and breathing over anything else.

"SON OF A BITCH!"

 **A/N: First of all, thanks everyone for the massive response! I was so happy to read that a lot of my faithful readers haven't given up on Emmy. Thirty reviews!? That just blew my mind! Keep those coming, I love them and they make me write a bit faster ;)**

 **Let me know what you thought of this one :D**

 **Thanks XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**


	5. Sin City & Bedtime Stories

**A/N: The beginning of this chapter will be set in episode Sin City, and the rest in Bedtime Stories. Hope you don't mind, I just skipped some parts that I didn't think contributed to Emmy's story. Some of you also requested some fluff, so here you go ;)**

 **Please enjoy the** ** _extra long_** **chapter!**

It was close to three in the morning when the Impala drove past the big sign that said ' _Singer Auto Salvage Yard'._ The car pulled up right next to Bobby's rusted, blue pick-up. The lights on the front porch were still on, meaning the old man was waiting for their arrival. Rumsfeld picked up his head long enough to check for any threats but soon as he heard the familiar rumble of the Impala, he went right back to sleep.

"You get the bags, I'll get Emmy," Dean said as he got out of the car.

Sam stretched his arms and legs as he walked to the trunk to get their stuff. He briefly scratched the dog on top of its head before knocking on the door.

Dean cracked his neck, massing a bundle of taut muscles on the back of his shoulders – driving for six hours straight with no stops can do that to you. He could hear Bobby's gruff voice as he answered the door while he moved to the backseat to wake up Emmy. Dean was careful to open the door since she was leaning against it. He caught her pillow and teddy bear before it fell to the ground and nestled them under his arm.

He stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles. "Hey, Emmy come on. We're here, baby."

She turned away from his touch, scrunching up her cute button nose as she mumbled something unintelligible.

"Let's go sweetheart, it's freezing out here. C'mon, Bobby set up your room for ya."

"I'm tired," she mumbled, barely coherently.

"What are you doing?" Dean chuckled as he watched her lay back on the backseat, burying her face in the cushion of the seat.

She muttered something that sounded much like, "Five more minutes."

Dean shook his head bemusedly. He grabbed her ankles and slid her closer until her legs were dangling out of the car.

" _Deannn_ ," she wined, a small pout pulling at her lips as she had yet to open her eyes.

 _Adorable_ , he thought.

He lifted her up under her arms and carried her on one arm while balancing her favorite pillow and teddy bear on the other. Emmy instantly buried her face in his neck, instinctively searching for warmth, her puffs of breath tickling his skin. Dean kissed her cheek.

Bobby greeted him with a pat on the shoulder.

"Sorry for bothering you at this hour – "

The grouchy man cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Don't sweat it, you're making breakfast though. Go ahead, Sam's already up."

"Alright, goodnight Bobby."

"'Night."

Dean adjusted Emmy in his arms and carried her up to her room. Sam had already pulled the covers back and put her pajama's on her nightstand. Dean sat her down gently and started taking off her coat and shoes when she suddenly swayed, wanting to lay back on the bed.

"Hold on, sweetheart. Just a second." He quickly helped her out of her clothes before putting one of his old t-shirts through her arms and head.

"C'n I go t'sleep, now?" she muttered, tiredly rubbing at her eyes.

"Now you can," he chuckled softly. He put her down and pulled the covers up to her neck. "Sammy and I will be right across the hall okay?" He brushed some hair out of her face. "Goodnight, baby."

"Dean," she moaned before he stood up from her bed.

"Yeah," he whispered.

She lifted up her hands, searching for something until they settled on his face. She cupped his cheeks, her fingers grazing his stubble. "You forgot to kiss me g'night."

A tender smile tugged at his lips. She was definitely half asleep. Emmy would have never asked this of him if she wasn't already halfway into dreamland. When she was like this, her tough exterior tended to drop and the little Emmy he was used to surfaced.

Dean softly rubbed his nose against hers, eliciting a tiny sleepy giggle out of her. He then kissed her forehead twice before he could feel her relax enough to fully fall asleep.

He didn't know how long he sat there, just watching her peaceful face, but it was long enough to realize what he was about to lose. He grabbed one of her small hands, holding it against his lips. He was supposed to hold her hand through ever obstacle in her life, he was supposed to be there to guide her and be her mentor … he had to be there to be the parent she never had. He stared down at her hand in his, it was so tiny and soft, her fingertips barely reaching his.

They say you don't know what you've got until it's gone. Truth was, Dean knew exactly what he had, he just never thought he'd lose it.

 **SPN**

Sam was sitting on the porch, doing some research on his laptop. He was constantly being distracted by Emmy's laughter. Every time he looked up he couldn't help but smile with a shake of his head when he saw his sister messing around with Rumsfeld.

"Sammy, look!"

"I'm looking."

Emmy proceeded to roll over in the grass, Rumsfeld doing the same.

"Good boy, and now _jump!"_ she jumped, the dog copying her movements. "And now, _sit!"_ she commanded as she sat on her butt, the Rottweiler mimicking her once again. She beamed, looking over at her brother. "Did you see that, Sammy!"

Sam chuckled. "Looks like he isn't a stupid dog after all," he joked, referring to Bobby's affectionate name for the dog.

"He can sing too! Watch this," she went on and sang the theme song to SpongeBob Squarepants. Rumsfeld poked his snout into the air and started singing his own version even though it sounded more like he was howling and whining.

Emmy clutched her stomach as she dropped back onto the grass, laughing so hard she could barely make a sound.

Sam couldn't help but laugh too, seeing his sister like that was contagious. He put his laptop down on the chair next to him. "Emmy, I'm going inside, you want anything?"

"No, I'm good!" She was still giggling her little heart out when Rumsfeld pounced on her, licking all over her face.

"Honey, you're getting dirt all over you," Sam pointed out but his sister was too busy roughhousing with the dog to care. He sighed, a warm smile on his face, he sometimes forgot she was still just a kid – and getting messy and dirty is what being a kid is all about.

Sam wiped his shoes on the mat before he entered the house. He walked towards Bobby's study where he found the man at his desk with the Colt in hand. Dean was sitting by the window, no doubt keeping an eye out on Emmy, while he melted some metal into bullets.

"Hey," Sam said.

Dean briefly looked up. "Hey, what's up?"

Sam shoved his hands down his pockets. "Might've found some omens in Ohio. Dry lightning, barometric-pressure drop."

"Well, that's thrilling."

"Plus, some guy blows his head off in a church and another goes postal in a hobby shop before the cops take him out," Sam added in an attempt to pique his brother's interest. "Might be demonic omens."

"Or it could just be a suicide and a psycho scrapbooker." Dean still didn't seem convinced.

"Yeah, but it's our best lead since Lincoln," he reasoned.

Dean suddenly tensed up when he heard Emmy shriek, and shot a guarded look through the window. He soon found out she was just squealing in laughter when Rumsfeld shook water off of him. How he got wet in the first place, Dean didn't even want to know. When those two were together they were always up to no good. He wiped his hands on an oil-stained kitchen towel and faced his brother.

"Where in Ohio?"

"Elizabethville," Sam answered, glad he finally persuaded him enough to get his full attention. "It's a half-dead factory town in the rust belt."

Dean smirked suggestively. "There's got to be a demon or two in South Beach."

"Sorry, Hef. Maybe next time," Sam chuckled before addressing Bobby. "How's it going, Bobby?"

"Slow," he grumbled, looking through a magnifying glass at what looked to be a diagram of parts.

Dean eyed the Colt somberly, it didn't look the same when it wasn't whole in one piece. "Eh, I tell you, it's a little sad seeing the Colt like that."

"Well, the only thing it's good for now is figuring out what makes it tick."

"So what makes it tick?" Sam asked.

Bobby shot him a clearly irked look.

Sam held up his hands in amusement.

Dean got up to his feet, throwing another look out the window. He winced a little when Rumsfeld attacked Emmy a little bit too hard, causing her to land on hands and knees. She didn't look like she minded though and giggled as she jumped right back up, continuing to play chase.

"So, if we want to go check out these omens in Ohio…, " Rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, Dean turned to Bobby with a straight face but his eyes betrayed the teasing undertone, "... you think you can have that thing ready by this afternoon?

Bobby good give Sam a run for his money with the bitch face he pulled, even Sam had to bite back a chuckle.

"Well, it won't kill demons by then, but I can promise you it'll kill you."

Dean smiled. "All right, come on, we're wasting the daylight."

"You're leaving already?" Emmy asked as she suddenly barged into the house, panting.

Sam was about to answer her when he suddenly noticed the state she was in, and judging by the looks of it, even Bobby and Dean were speechless as they all eyed her up and down. One of the lapels of her overalls had fallen off her shoulder, she had dirt smudged all over her exposed skin, more than half of her hair fell around her face in waves making the ponytail useless, her knees were slightly skinned, and what used to be _white_ sneakers where now close to brown.

"Is there a war going on that I don't know about?" Bobby joked, his eyes slightly squinted in silent laughter.

Emmy clasped her hands behind her back, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Oh, I just fell."

"I think she's going for the bohemian look." Dean's lips twitched as he plucked some grass out of her hair before clasping the lapel of her overalls back to its place.

"Dean, stop it." Emmy twisted her face around when he tried to wipe away some dirt from her chin. "So where are you two going?"

Sam looked amused as he watched his brother being all motherly. "We think we found a lead for our next case, it's worth to check out. You're gonna have to clean up first if you wanna come with."

"Hold still," Dean grunted as he grabbed her face, forcing her to stay still until he rubbed that little smudge of dirt off her cheek. "You can stay at Bobby's if you want."

Sam frowned but didn't say anything.

Emmy finally managed to escape Dean's hold and pushed her hair out of her face, it was getting long, _too long._ "I think I'll stay here."

Dean clapped his hands together. "Alright then. Bobby make sure she takes a bath and don't let her out until she sparkles." He fixed his sister a knowing look. "No quick shower."

She craned her neck as she looked up at him, innocently tilting her head to the side. "I never take quick showers."

"Five minutes is quick," Sam pointed out, poking her side.

"Not my fault I hate taking showers, besides I saw you guys shower in two minutes."

"That's different," Dean rolled his eyes, young kids always hated to shower and sleep and once they get older they want nothing else. "Give us a kiss and then I want your little ass upstairs."

"But I'm not done playing with Rumsfeld," she glowered, lips pursed. "Please … "

Dean wished he could say no to that face but who was he kidding anyway. Soon his stern expression crumbled and it wasn't long before he gave in. "Fine, one more hour and then you're done for today."

"Thanks," she grinned, hugging him around the waist and pulling him down to kiss his cheek. Emmy turned to Sam and did the same before running off again, the sound of Rumsfeld's happy barks sounded as soon as the backdoor slammed shut.

Dean noticed Sam's eyes on him and sighed as he grabbed his coat. "If you're gonna say she's got me wrapped around her pretty finger, save it."

"Not what I was gonna say. I just thought you'd want her on the road with us."

"Why?"

Sam opened his mouth but he quickly shut it when he couldn't find the right words. _'Cause you're about to die and you don't wanna spend a second away from her –_ he needed a few seconds to rephrase that in his head.

Bobby cleared his throat. "Cause that's your usual MO – keep your friends close, your enemies closer and Emmy closest."

 _Well that was one way to get the message across,_ Sam thought. But Bobby was right, when things got bad, Dean held onto the people he loved with an iron fist – scared to lose the one thing that gave meaning to his life.

Dean scratched the back of his neck, feeling nervous by being exposed like that. "Yeah well, she's happy here. I just thought she deserved a break. Besides, I trust you Bobby, I know she's safe here."

"No need to justify yourself boy," Bobby half-smiled, "You two can go ahead with a clear conscience. You boys run into anything, _anything_ , you call me."

"Thanks Bobby, see ya," Sam nodded before heading out. "Bye, Emmy!"

" _Bye, Sammy!"_ she yelled from outside.

Dean followed suit but not before making sure his sister behaved while they were gone. "Emmy, sweetheart, you be a good girl while we're gone, you hear me!"

" _Bye, Dean!"_

"Ten years old and she's already starting to get an attitude," he grumbled.

Sam snorted. "Who do you think she got it from?"

Dean flipped him off.

 **SPN**

Emmy was walking down the stairs as she dried her hair with a towel. She went straight for the kitchen to grab something to snack on. It was almost five o'clock when she finished a bag of Doritos. She licked off her fingers and wondered where Bobby was when she suddenly heard a gunshot coming from the yard.

Assuming the worst, she dropped her towel around her shoulders and went to check out what was going on. She pulled the curtains aside, peeking through it when she saw her surrogate uncle shooting at a target with what looked to be the restored Colt.

She quickly put her shoes on, opting for a cleaner pair before making her way over to Bobby. He looked up from making some adjustments to the gun but relaxed when he noticed it was just her.

"Watcha doing?" she asked.

"I'm trynna find out what the deal is with this thing," he answered as he fired again.

Emmy startled a little at the loud noise. "Can I try?"

Bobby shot her a questioning look. "Try what?"

Her eyes flickered to the gun still in his hand.

"You wanna shoot with it?"

She poked her tongue against the inside of her cheek, shrugging. "Yeah why not? I've never done it before."

He chuckled, a rumbling sound. "My ass is on the line here when your brothers find out I let their precious little sister touch the Colt, let alone fire it."

Her eyes twinkled in mischief. "What they don't know, won't hurt them, I mean won't hurt _you._ "

Bobby squinted at her as he adjusted his hat. "You little rascal."

Emmy grinned. "So can I? Please, uncle Bobby. Pretty please!"

"Oh I don't know darlin' – "

"Nothing's gonna happen, you'll be right here with me. They'll never find out."

He scoffed. "Like they never found out about that book I gave ya?"

"Oh they told you about that?" She bit her lip nervously. "It wasn't my fault uncle Bobby, it was an accident."

"It was an accident," he repeated with a snort. "You know that's the same thing your brother Dean said he'd tell other people when they find my dead body."

"I take it he didn't take it too well?"

"Oh he laid into me big time," he chuckled, "and he had every right to. I should've let him put his own two cents in it."

"But he's over it now, he said I could keep the book," she countered. "So can I?"

Bobby thought about it, making a point of not meeting her gaze – he wasn't about to let that pretty face influence him.

"No."

"Uncle Bobby, _please._ Just one shot, that's all. I swear I won't ever bother you again after this. I'll keep my mouth shut and won't tell Sammy and Dean about it. It's not like I'm gonna go around guns blazing after this. Chances are I'll never get my hands on a gun or any other weapon ever in my life, and I just wanna know what it's like. It's not any different from shooting things at the fair and I've done that plenty of times, so we can just pretend that if I hit the target I win a giant teddy bear or something. Or how about we pretend – "

"Alright, alright," he cut her off. He huffed as he studied her closely. "Repeat after me, one shot."

"One shot," she giggled.

"No giggling, this is serious business," he warned.

"No giggling, got it." She tried to keep a serious face but that was hard when she could barely keep her giddiness in check.

"God help me," Bobby mumbled under his breath. "Get over here."

Emmy was shaking, she was way too excited about this.

Bobby dropped his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back until he thought she was at a safe distance. He had a pretty good feeling that nothing could go wrong but she was a Winchester, luck never tended to be in their favor.

"You left handed or right handed?"

"Right."

"Alright, so keep your feet apart and put your body at a slight angle to the target with your left foot in the front."

"Like this?"

"Feet should be shoulder-width apart." Bobby nudged her feet a little bit. "Good, now slightly flex your knees, bend your torso forward just a little bit and roll your shoulders forward."

"Okay I'm ready," she said, already reaching for the gun.

"Hey, hey, _hey,"_ he scolded, keeping the Colt away from her. "Baby steps, little lady."

"Sorry." She threw the towel aside, gathering her hair in a messy bun.

Bobby took a deep breath, exhaling though his nose. He handed her the gun, guiding her fingers in the right position. "Don't spend too much time trying to aim for the target. The faster you can settle into position and release your shot, the better your shot will be."

An audible click sounded as he took the safety off. Bobby kept his hands on hers as he aimed for the target. He made sure she had a good hold on it before he released her.

"Go for it," he told her. He stayed behind her, ready to take over whenever things went south.

Emmy took a shaky breath as she zoned in on the target. She wasn't worried about aiming, that had always been her forte. She remembered when Dean would let her play darts or that time John took her to the fair and she ended up shooting every duck, winning an CD player she ended up losing at some nameless motel in some nameless state.

She closed one eye, her hands tightening around the handle of the gun. She never thought she'd feel strange holding the Colt, this weapon is what killed demons – the thought alone made her gulp soundly.

"Here goes nothing," she whispered, she cocked the gun and pulled the trigger. She recoiled from the kickback, bumping against Bobby who whistled, impressed. She didn't hit bullseye but she wasn't far off.

"Look at you!" he laughed, ruffling her hair.

Someone suddenly applauded. "Good shot, not bad at all … for a ten year old."

Bobby turned around, pushing Emmy behind him but not before grabbing the Colt out of her hand, pointing it at the intruder.

The woman eyed the gun. "Cute piece."

Bobby's fingers rested on the trigger. "Who are you?"

"Ruby," Emmy whispered.

She casually shook some hair out of her eyes. "It won't stop a demon, if that's what you think."

"How the hell would you know?" Bobby spat.

"Uncle Bobby – " Emmy started to say when Ruby suddenly revealed her true self.

She closed her eyes and when she opened them they were pitch black. "Oh I don't know. Call it an educated guess?"

Bobby smirked. "Well, ain't I lucky, then? Found a subject for a test fire."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Luck had nothing to do with it. But, hey, by all means. Take your best shot." She posed in front of the target, arms outstretched, a challenging smile on her face.

Emmy suddenly stepped forward and lowered his hand. "Uncle Bobby don't do it."

Ruby smiled sweetly. "Aw thanks doll, friends should stick up for each other."

"I'm not your friend, Ruby," Emmy shot back.

Bobby's eyebrows bunched up in utter confusion. "You two know each other?"

Ruby shrugged. "More like acquaintances. So Are you gonna stand there like a pantywaist, or are you gonna shoot…"

"Stay back, Emmy," Bobby ordered, pushing her away. He aimed at the blonde demon and did what he always did in situations like this – shoot first, ask questions later.

Emmy jumped when he shot Ruby right in the chest.

Ruby looked down at the wound, a disinterested look on her face. "Ouch! That smarts a little."

Bobby gritted his teeth. "What do you want?"

"Peace on earth. A new shirt." Ruby fingered the whole in her shirt. "Now ... do you want me to help you out with that gun or not? Hmm?"

 **SPN**

Emmy fiddled with her phone, debating whether she should tell Sam and Dean that Ruby was here or not. Or maybe she should just tell Sam, if she told Dean he'd probably blow a gasket and drive back to South Dakota.

"What kinda hair products do you use?"

Startled out of her thoughts, Emmy's eyes met Ruby's across the room. "Excuse me?"

The demon gestured at her hair. "How do you get it all so silky and fluffy?"

Emmy grabbed a piece of her hair, turning it between her fingers as she inspected it closely. "I don't know, I just use shampoo."

"Hmm, what kind?"

"… The regular kind?"

Ruby chuckled with a shake of her head. "I forgot you were raised by two flannel giants who probably don't even know the difference between shampoo and conditioner. You're lucky you hit the genetic lottery."

Emmy bit the inside of her cheek, she wasn't good at small talk, especially not with a demon. And Bobby had ordered her not to exchange a word with Ruby, so she settled with playing on her phone while counting her teeth with her tongue.

"So did you get a hold on that angel of yours?"

Fingers freezing on the buttons of her phone, Emmy swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. "W-what angel?"

"Gabriel, duh."

Emmy sat up straight on her chair, throwing a look behind her, making sure Bobby hadn't yet returned from the garage where he was looking for some tools.

Ruby smirked. "Oh, I get it. It's a secret."

"It's not a secret, I just – I haven't, I didn't – "

"You just didn't tell anyone," Ruby said. "That's a secret, sweetie, look it up."

Emmy clenched her teeth. "I don't know how you found out about Gabriel but you can't breathe a word about this to anyone."

Ruby held up her hands in surrender. "Trust me, your secret is safe with me."

"Trust you?" Emmy scoffed. "You're a demon."

"Well, I'm offended," she smiled, "but you forget something about us – we never break our promises." Ruby reclined in her chair, not even bothered by the demon trap Bobby drew around her chair, safety measure. "So you never asked me how I found out."

Emmy wished she could ignore her but it was stronger than herself. "How?"

"I can see it, you're glowing," she said, her eyes roaming over her. "He left his mark on you, like a big 'she's off limits' kinda mark."

Emmy frowned. She thought Gabriel had cloaked her with an invisible spell, covering her up.

"Only our kind can see it," Ruby explained.

"Your kind?"

"Angels to some, demons to others. We're the same kind of being, molded from the same entity."

"But you serve the devil," Emmy said pointedly.

"In hell, the devil is god." Ruby half-smiled. "You know, you can summon him if you want."

Emmy didn't have to say it out loud to know who she was talking about. "I can?"

"It's easy really, especially in your case."

"I already prayed, I call him every day, he doesn't answer me."

Ruby leaned forward in her chair, her hands folded, eyes narrowed as she held Emmy's gaze. "I can help."

Emmy was smart enough to know that this could be a trap. No matter what Ruby said, she couldn't be trusted – she was right about one thing though, demons never broke their promises, but they always had a way of turning your vulnerability into their favor. But then again it couldn't hurt to ask, right?

"You say it's easy, how easy?" Emmy dared to ask.

A little smile tugged at Ruby's lips. "Really easy. I only need one thing."

Emmy gulped. "What's that?"

"Your blood."

The backdoor slammed open and Emmy nearly jumped out of her skin. Bobby's heavy footsteps grew louder as he neared. He eyed both Emmy and Ruby suspiciously.

"Bout time, old man," Ruby grinned sarcastically.

"Emmy, how about you go keep Rumsfeld some company," Bobby suggested, turning to the ten year old.

Standing up from her chair, Emmy merely nodded. As she walked out of the room, her back burned as a pair or fiery eyes followed her steps.

 **SPN**

Three days later and Emmy found herself in the backseat of the Impala, back on the road again. She had finally gotten her iPod back but the music blaring through her headphones did nothing to drown out her brothers' loud voices. Sam and Dean were arguing _again_ about the Colt. Emmy never told them that the only reason the gun was fixed was because of Ruby.

"I don't understand, Dean. Why not?"

"Because I said so."

"We got the Colt now! We can summon the Crossroads Demon – "

"We're not summoning anything!"

"We'll pull the gun on her, and force her to let you out of the deal!"

"We don't even know if that'll work!"

"Well then we'll just shoot her! If she dies then the deal goes away!"

"We don't know if that'll work either, Sam! All you're pitching me right now is a bunch of _ifs_ and _maybes_ and that's not good enough, because if we screw with this deal, you die!"

"And if we don't screw with it, you die!"

By now they were both shouting over each other, as if playing a game of who can be the loudest.

Emmy blew out a raspberry, this was getting annoying. She was all for taking the Colt and taking their best shot at a crossroads demon but Dean had to be difficult for some reason. They had a possible solution and he won't even consider it.

Leaning her chin on the edge of their seat, she was about to smack them both on the back of their heads when she spotted something in the middle of the road.

"Dean, watch out!"

"Sonuvabitch!" Dean turned the wheel, causing the car to swerve. He breathed hard as he focused back on the road. "What was it?"

"A frog," Emmy said.

Dean looked at her, deadpanned. "A frog? I nearly killed us for a stupid frog?!"

"Sorry." She gnawed at her bottom lip. "At least I got you two to stop fighting."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look.

"Don't be sorry, Emmy. We're the ones who should apologize," Sam said, patting her hand.

Dean turned away, letting out a long breath in an attempt to calm himself down. "Tell me about the psychotic killer." When Sam didn't talk, he tried again, "C'mon Sam, tell me about the psychotic killer."

Sam clenched his jaw, he really wasn't in the mood to pretend everything that had been said didn't happen. Dean always did that, changing the subject as if it would also change their situation. But Dean's eyes flickered to the rearview mirror where he looked at their sister. She went back to her iPod but anyone could see that their quibbling had put a damper on her mood. Sam crossed Dean's eyes for only a second but it was long enough to read the hidden meaning in it.

 _For Emmy's sake._

Sam sighed and reluctantly grabbed a paper on the dashboard, reading monotonously. "Psychotic killer… rips victims apart with brute-like ferocity."

Dean nodded. "Okay, any mention of his razor sharp teeth or his four-inch claws? Animal eyes?"

"No. But the lunar cycle's right. Look, if it is a werewolf we don't have long, moon's full this Friday and that's the last time it changes for a month."

"Two days, no sweat." Dean threw another look at the rearview mirror and cleared his throat. "Hey, Emmy!"

She looked up at him, taking her headphones off. "What?"

"Wanna come up here and drive for a bit?"

"Dean – " Sam started, ever the responsible and apparently the only brother with common sense.

"Oh ease up, Sammy. I haven't seen a car drive by for an hour now, and I doubt there's cops around either." Dean's eyes flickered up once again to wink at his sister. "And besides, Emmy's got better eyes than me. Wouldn't want to hit some frog again, right sweetheart?"

Emmy grinned and threw her iPod aside before crawling to the front. The last time anyone let her steer the wheel was when she was eight and John wanted to make it up to her after being away for so long again.

Dean slowed down a little while Emmy lowered herself on his lap. Her feet dangled, barely reaching the pedals. He adjusted his hold on her and put her small hands on the wheel.

"Ready?"

She nodded, beaming. "Yup!"

Dean released his hands and let her steer the car. Emmy gripped the wheel and moved the car in a smooth curve.

"That's my girl!"

He occasionally helped her especially when they took sharp turns. He also made sure to stick to the speeding limit, which was a first.

Sam watched on with a sorrowful smile on his face. He had a déjà vu of when their father used to let him and his brother drive the Impala. It seemed like ages ago when he used to fit his father's lap.

"Hey Dean?"

"Yeah, baby."

"When I grow up, can I drive the Impala too?"

Dean felt a sudden lump in his throat at the thought of not being there when she grew up. He had always thought he'd be the one to teach her how to drive.

He simply answered her with a kiss on the temple.

 **SPN**

The next morning, the Winchester brothers paid a visit to Kyle's hospital room, the victim of their new case. Both Sam and Dean held up their fake badges, introducing themselves.

"I'm Detective Plant, this is Detective Page, we're with the County Sheriff's Department," Dean said.

Kyle winced as he tried to sit up. "Yeah, uh, I've been expecting you."

Dean frowned. "You have?"

"All morning. You are the sketch artists, right?"

Sam turned to Dean. " ...uh."

"Absolutely."

"Yeah," Sam added quietly.

Dean smirked. "Yeah. That is exactly who my partner is. The things he can do with a pen... "

Sam glared at his brother.

Dean fake coughed. "But listen before we get started on that, I wanted to ask you, uh, how'd you get away?"

"I– I have no idea," Kyle stuttered. "I was hiding, and he found me. He was coming right for me and then he just ... stopped. Staring at me with this blank look. And after that he just took off running."

"'Kay. Um, I'm going to need as much physical detail as you can remember."

Sam grabbed a small notebook which he was pretty sure belonged to Emmy, especially with the flower stickers on the front. Sam hoped Kyle didn't see but Dean did as he chuckled under his breath. Flipping the notebook open, Sam had to flicker through Emmy's drawings until he finally ended on an empty page.

"Uh yeah. Uh, he's about six feet tall..." Kyle started to say.

"Six feet..." Sam mumbled as he started sketching.

"Dark hair ..."

Dean peeked over Sam's shoulder at the sketch but Sam turned away.

"Uhm, what, what about his eyes, what color eyes did he have?"

"Maybe….blue?" Kyle answered hesitantly.

"Blue?"

"It was dark."

"Did they seem..." Dean cleared his throat as he searched for the right word. "Uh, animal-ish?"

Kyle looked confused. "Excuse me?"

"What about his teeth?" Sam asked. "You notice anything ... strange about 'em?"

Kyle shook his head. "No, they were just teeth."

"How about his fingernails?" Dean asked next.

Kyle looked at them like they had both sprouted a second head. "OK look he- he's just a- a normal guy, with normal eyes a-a-a-and teeth and fingernails!"

Sam sighed. "Look sir, it's okay if-"

"No," he cut him off. "No. Those were my brothers. This guy, he- he killed my brothers. How would you feel?"

Sam saw could see Dean tense up out of the corner of his eyes. "Can't imagine anything worse."

Dean wet his lips and straightened his shoulders. "I know this isn't easy but if you could remember any more details..."

"Th-there was one more thing he had a- a tattoo on his arm of a cartoon character. Umm... it's, uh, it's the guy who's chasing the Roadrunner—"

Dean snapped his fingers. "Wile E. Coyote!"

"Yeah, that's it."

Someone knocked on the door, a man dressed in a white coat. "Kyle?" The doctor entered, eying th gentlemen up and down.

"Dr. Garrison."

Dr. Garrison held a clipboard under his arm. "How you holding up?

"Okay, considering."

"You're Kyle's Doctor?" Dean questioned.

"Yes?"

Dean held up his badge. "Can I just ask you a few questions?"

After Dean and Dr. Garrison left the room, Kyle pointed at Sam's notebook.

"Don't I get to see it?"

"Uhh," Sam chuckled nervously. "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Uhm, yeah, it's a, you know… work in progress."

Kyle accepted the notebook, studying the sketch – it was a badly dawn stick figure of a man.

Kyle scratched the back of his head. "Hm. It— it's really... huh."

Sam wished the floor would swallow him down by now.

 _Awkward._

 **SPN**

Emmy blinked repeatedly as she stared at Sam's computer screen. She was scrolling through some articles she found on how to summon an angel. She had already checked the book Bobby gave her, she even went through John's journal but she didn't find anything on how to call an angel – demons, yes. But not angels. And as far as she knew, her family didn't even think there was such thing as angels.

 _I don't believe it until I've seen it,_ Dean used to say.

On the internet she did find something useful. There was an article on angel summoning – it said you needed some materials like leaves and herbs and other stuff Emmy never heard of before. There was also a spell needed, some Enochian chant whatever that was supposed to mean. Emmy wasn't even sure if it would work on angels let alone archangels. For all she knew this was just a blog written by some biblical fanatic, making things up as he goes.

But one thing stood out to Emmy. Through all the research she did, no one ever once mentioned you needed to use blood. Then why did Ruby tell her otherwise?

The familiar sound of the Impala's rumble shook Emmy out of her thoughts. She quickly put her book and their Dad's journal back in Dean's duffel bag. She then rushed as she deleted the history of the past hour on Sam's laptop just as she heard the keys jingle at the door.

Sam entered first, shooting her a quick smile.

Dean followed after, closing the door with a kick of his foot as he admired Sam's sketch. "Boy, this is a piece of, uh, art. Really. Emmy look at this."

Noticing he was coming her way, she quickly opened her homeschool program on the laptop. Dean showed her Sam's drawing.

"Oh Sammy, even toddlers can draw better than that." Emmy giggled. "Hey, is that my notebook? I've been searching for that thing everywhere."

"Thanks for the compliment, Emmy," Sam smiled sarcastically before turning to Dean. "So what did the Doc have to say about Kyle's brothers?"

Dean shrugged off his suit jacket and plopped down next to his sister. "Not much, they were D.O.A. at the scene. He did give me the lowdown on the coroner's report."

"Lemme guess, their hearts were missing," Sam said as he grabbed two beers.

"Nope." Dean grimaced. "But chunks of their kidneys, lungs and intestines."

Emmy pulled a face. "That's just gross."

"You can say that again," Dean agreed, throwing an arm around the back of her chair. "Also definitely not werewolf behavior."

"So, what? Demon? Attacker could've been possessed," Sam suggested, handing a beer to his brother before joining them at the table.

"Why would a Demon stop halfway through an attack?" Dean wondered out loud, twirling Emmy's hair around his fingers.

"I think that, uh… Maybe – could've been a … " Sam rubbed his forehead as he thought hard. "Yeah, I got nothing."

"Me neither." Dean sipped from his beer.

"Hey, you're wearing Mom's earrings again," Sam suddenly noticed.

"Huh?" Emmy found her fingers tugging at her earlobe. "Oh yeah, I found them at uncle Bobby's. I forgot I put them in my room. So my hair is getting really long again."

Dean continued playing with her loose hair. "So?"

"So … can I get a haircut?" she wounded hopeful.

"No."

Her face fell. "Why not?"

"Cause I'm your brother and I said so."

Emmy crossed her arms over her chest. "Sammy's my brother too and he said I could cut my hair."

"Uh hold on," Sam chuckled, "I never said anything."

"But you wouldn't say no," she pushed.

"I-I don't know, I need to think about it," he stammered.

"Doesn't matter, I'm the oldest so whatever I say goes." Dean finished his beer in one go and stood up. "You guys hungry, cause I'm starving. Let's go."

"Sammy?" Emmy tried again, using the puppy dog eyes. "Please?"

"Honey, I invented that look. It doesn't work on me." Sam got up too and hauled her out of her chair, throwing her over his shoulder, causing her to squeal. "What were you doing on my laptop?"

"Homework," she lied.

"I'm glad you look after me and not that Neanderthal who calls himself the awesomest person in the world."

"Awesomest?" Emmy laughed.

"I never said that," Dean defied as they walked back outside.

"Yes you did," Sam persisted. He threw Emmy upside down, her long hair barely touching the ground.

" _Sammy!"_ Her giggles echoed against the walls of the motel.

 **SPN**

The next day, Sam and Dean were once again at the hospital but not for Kyle. This time there was another victim, a young woman.

Dr. Garrison was in the middle of trying to persuade his patient to lie down and get some rest, when he caught the brothers standing at the doorway.

"Detectives."

Dean smiled tightly. "Dr. Garrison."

The doctor hastily ran a hand through his hair. "What the hell is going on here? My whole town is going insane."

"We'll let you know as soon as we do," Sam said politely.

Dr. Garrison sighed, shooting the young lady a pointed look to stay put before he excused himself.

Dean gently approached the patient. "Miss Watson? Hi. We just need to ask you a few questions."

Julie watched as they showed her their badges. "Do we have to go over this again? Now?"

"We'll try to be brief," Sam promised. "Miss Watson, can you tell us how you got away?"

"I didn't eat as much as Ken did, so I wasn't as out of it," she started to say, fiddling with a wire hooked on her wrist. "And, when the old woman was... carving up Ken, I shoved her, and she fell. Cracked her head on the stove." She looked up at them with questioning eyes. "She's dead, right? I- I killed her?"

"D'you have any idea why she'd do this to you?" Dean asked instead, he got straight to the hospital when he heard the news, he hadn't yet gotten the time to collect details.

"No! One minute she was a sweet old lady and the next she was, like, a monster," her voice wavered, tears stinging her eyes.

"Can you remember anything else?" Sam asked softly.

"Um, yeah," she sniffs. "Did you find a little girl there, by any chance?"

Sam bunched his eyebrows together. "A ... little girl? At the house?"

"I thought I saw her outside the window. She, she just disappeared. Just vanished, into thin air."

Sam and Dean looked at each other.

"It m-must've been the drugs," Julie shrugged off.

"This disappearing girl, what did she look like?" Dean wanted to k now.

Julie reclined against her pillow, looking tired. "Does it matter?"

"Yes," Sam said. "Every detail matters."

She let out a shaky breath. "She had this dark, dark hair and really pale skin. She was around eight. She was a beautiful child. It was... odd to see her in the middle of something so horrible."

 **SPN**

Back at the crime scene, Sam and Dean first made sure the coast was clear before they let Emmy in. There was no point in letting her wait in the Impala if all she was going to do was nag about being locked up in the car all the time.

Emmy had the 'honor' to use the EMF for once. She walked around the old lady's house, the little device in her hand beeping loudly.

"Well, there's no sulfur anywhere," Dean announced after checking out the entire house. "How about the EMF?"

"It's going nuts," Emmy replied. When she walked past the window, the thing rang like crazy.

"There's definitely a spirit here," Sam said.

"Who stood outside the crime scene and watched," Dean added. This could fit Julie's story.

"Looks like."

Dean looked around the room for any more clues. "What the hell do you make of that?"

Sam wet his dry lips. "Actually I do have a theory. Uh, sort of."

"Can you make this thing shut up?" Emmy complained, handing the EMF back to Dean.

Dean easily turned it off. "See, you just push that little button on the side here." He tapped her freckled nose and turned back to Sam. "Hit me."

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, thinkin' about fairy tales."

"Oh that's – that's nice." Dean's eyes widened briefly as he exchanged a look with his sister. _Fascinating_. "You think about fairy tales often?"

Emmy couldn't help but giggle.

Sam of course pulled his bitch face number nine. "No, Dean, I'm talking about the murders. A guy and a girl? Hiking through the woods, an old lady tries to eat 'em? That's Hansel and Gretel. And then we got three brothers, arguing over how to build houses, attacked by the Big Bad Wolf – "

"Oh, The Three Little Pigs!" Emmy rushed out eagerly.

"Yeah." Sam smiled a little at her childlike reaction.

"Actually those guys were a little chubby," Dean mentioned, recalling Kyle.

Emmy smacked him in the stomach. "That's mean."

"You're mean." Dean jabbed her in her own stomach. "Well, wait, I thought those things ended with, uh, everybody living happily ever after?"

Sam shook his head. "No, not the originals. See the Grimm Brothers' stuff was kinda the folklore of its day, full of sex, violence, cannibalism. Now, it got sanitized over the years, turned into Disney flicks and bedtime stories."

"Oh, I remember reading the original Pinocchio once," Emmy told them, "He accidently kills the wise talking cricket and later gets hung and suffocates."

Dean looked at her for a few seconds. "What is it with you and picking out the wrongs books, huh? Where did you even get that one?"

She started fidgeting under his gaze. "I'm not supposed to tell."

"Bobby," both Sam and Dean guessed at the same time.

"It wasn't uncle Bobby!" she protested, they already gave the man such a hard time.

"Yeah, sure whatever you say, sweetheart." Dean faced his brother again. "So you think the murders are uh, what? A re-enactment? That's a little crazy."

Sam scoffed. "Crazy as what? Every day of our lives?"

"Touché. So how's the creepy ghost girl involved?"

Sam looked back at the window where Julie said she had seen her. "Well, she must've been here for a reason. I'm willing to bet you top dollar she was at the construction site too."

Dean groaned. "We gotta do research now, don't we?" He complained, grudgingly.

"Yup." Sam grabbed Emmy's hand and walked out of the house with Dean following right behind.

Emmy had to fasted her pace to keep up with her brothers. "Hey, and did you know that in the original Rumpelstiltskin, when the girl figures out his name, he got so angry – and in his fury he stamped his right foot so hard that he drove it into the ground right up to his waist. Then he took hold of his left foot with both hands and tore himself in two."

"I did not know that," Sam remarked, slightly disturbed.

Emmy swung their intertwined hands. "Uhu, and Cinderella's stepsisters not only cut off parts of their feet to fit into the glass slippers, but at the end, they have their eyes pecked out by doves."

"Why though?" It didn't make any sense to Sam.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Oh and in The Little Red Riding Hood, the little girl gets eaten by the big bad – "

"Alright, that's enough for today," Dean cut her off once they've reached the Impala.

"But I wasn't done yet."

"Tough, I actually got a story too. Do you remember the one with the little girl and she had two big brothers, and she wouldn't listen to them when they told her to stop reading stuff that aren't meant for little girls. So her eyesight started to get real bad until she ended up being blind. And now she could never read an inappropriate book ever again. The end."

She gazed him up with that judging look only kids could master. "Did you just made that up on spot, cause that's the worst story I've ever heard."

Dean's lips twitched. "Get in the car."

"That sucked," Sam laughed.

Dean pointed at him. "You, get in the car too."

 **SPN**

Dean didn't look happy when he exited the Library.

"Where's Emmy?" he asked once he met Sam outside.

Sam pointed at the park. "On the swings."

Dean spotted her and found himself checking her over, a force of habit.

"So I checked every record they had. Found the usual amount of violent childhood deaths for a town this size," Dean said as they walked across the road towards the park. "Wanna know how many how many were little girls with black hair and pale skin?"

"Zero."

"Zero! You wanna know how many little girls with black hair and pale skin that have gone missing? Right again. Zip. zilch, nada," Dean grumbled. "Tell me you've got something good 'cause I've totally wasted the last six hours."

"Well you ever hear of Lillian Bailey? She was a British medium from the 1930s."

"She got a thing for fairy tales?" Dean asked, keeping a watchful eye on their sister.

Sam shook his head. "Nah, trances. See she'd go into these unconscious states where, uhm, get this, her thoughts and actions were completely controlled by spirits."

"A ghost puppet master."

"Yeah." Sam waved Emmy over. "Emmy!"

Dean ran his tongue along his front teeth. "Think that's what this kid is doing? Sending wolfboy and grandma into trances, making them go kill-crazy?"

Sam lifted up his shoulders before dropping them. "Could be. You know, kinda like uh, uh, spirit hypnosis or something."

"Trances I get, but fairy tale trances? That's bizarre even for us." The thought alone made Dean shudder.

Emmy was skipping her way towards them when she suddenly stopped short. She looked down and smiled, "Hey, I found a frog! I wonder if it's the one you nearly killed, Dean."

Sam and Dean approached the animal, both staring at the amphibian with a sceptic look.

"Yeah, you're right. That's completely normal," Sam commented.

The bullfrog croaked.

"All right, maybe it is fairy tales. Totally messed-up fairy tales. I tell you one thing, there's no way I'm kissing a damn frog," Dean cringed.

Emmy crouched down and picked it up, holding it close to her face. "Hey little froggie."

"Emmy, don't touch that thing," Dean scolded, disgusted.

"It's so slimy," she giggled.

"Hey," Sam nudged his brother. "Check that out."

Dean followed his gaze to a house across the road with a pumpkin sitting on the porch.

"Yeah? It's close to Halloween."

"You remember Cinderella? With the pumpkin that turns into a coach, and the mice that become horses?"

Dean shot his brother a blank look for a full minute. "Dude, could you be more gay?"

Sam seemed flustered. He caught himself attempting to offer an answer to that but Dean quickly interrupted.

"Don't answer that."

"Well, it's definitely worth checking out," Sam said. "Emmy, you wait here until we're back okay?"

"Okay," she mumbled, still distracted with the frog cupped in her hands. She laughed when it stuck it's tongue out.

Dean pulled a face of repulsion. "Emmy, put that fugly thing down before you catch something."

"Hey, he's not fugly," she berated. She stroked the frog on top of its head. "You're not ugly, you're just not that pretty, right Lollihops?"

" _Lollihops_?" Sam laughed.

"You named that hideous – " Dean caught himself when Emmy shot him look, "You named _it_ Lollihops? When?"

"Just now."

"Why?"

"Cause I like lollipops and he likes to hop. Duh."

"Oh god."

Sam snorted with a shake of his head as he pulled his brother along. "C'mon, let's go. Honey, you stay here, alright."

"Yeah, yeah."

 **SPN**

Emmy sat down on a bench at the park. She positioned herself so she still had a view on the house her brothers went to check out.

"C'mon, Lollihops, hop over this," she said, putting a little rock on her lap. She laughed when it bounced on her knee, its slimy legs feeling funny on her bare skin.

"You should kiss it."

Emmy looked up at the unfamiliar voice. A girl who looked a few years younger than her stood in front of her, her long black hair running down her back, her skin pale with tiny freckles peppered on her face. She had on a white summer dress and Emmy wondered if she wasn't cold.

"You should kiss it, and it'll turn into a handsome prince," she said, playing around with an apple in her hands.

"Like in The Frog Prince?" Emmy chuckled, deciding to play along. "It won't work cause I'm not a princess."

A small smile tugged at the girl's lips. "You look like a princess."

Emmy looked down at herself – cut offs, Chucks that had seen better days, a light blue hoodie and a black jean jacket. Yep, she totally looked like a princess.

"You look like a princess too," Emmy said, pointing at the girl's attire. "You should kiss it."

"I can't. I already have my own prince."

The way she said it was so serious, as if the girl truly believed what she was saying. Emmy couldn't help but thinks something was off with her.

"Do you know the story of Cinderella?"

"Yeah. Um, you're here all by yourself?" Emmy had looked around and didn't see anyone else at the park.

"She had a wicked stepmom who abused her – "

"Yeah, I know. So what's your name? "

"She hated Cinderella so much," the girl continued her story like Emmy hadn't just asked her something, "She even handcuffed her to the oven."

Emmy raised her eyebrows. "Uh, I'm pretty sure that did not happen in the story. Ovens didn't exist back then."

"You don't believe me?" the girl looked truly hurt as she dropped her gaze downcast at the apple in her hand. "I'll show you."

Emmy watched her cross the street to the house with the pumpkin. "Oh, hey you can't go in there!"

The girl didn't listen and went on inside the house.

"Oh crap," Emmy cursed under her breath. She put the frog down on the grass. "Sorry, Lollihops, be right back."

Emmy broke into a run towards the house. The front door was open so she barged into the living room.

Dean had come in to see what the commotion was about, gun in hand, and frowned when he saw his sister. "Emmy, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Uh, I was just trying to stop this …" Emmy trailed off when she caught sight of a young girl handcuffed to the oven. She couldn't believe her eyes.

"You have to help me. She's a lunatic!" The girl cried desperately.

"Who?" Sam asked.

"Her stepmom," Emmy said, realizing what was happening here.

"She just freaked out, screamed at me, beat me. Chained me up," she sobbed.

Sam took out his lock pick to free her. "Where is she now?"

She sniffed. "I don't know."

Dean put his gun away and handed Emmy the keys to the Impala. "Go wait in the car."

"No, wait! There's this girl, I followed her inside, she – "

"What girl? There's no one in here." Dean sighed. "Emmy, please just take the car keys and – "

Emmy stomped her foot, fed up with him not listening to her. "I saw her get inside the house, Dean! She looked a little bit younger than me, with black hair and a white dress. She was really weird, and she's the one who told me about this girl and her stepmom and – "

Dean suddenly shushed her. "Is that her?"

Emmy spun around to see what he was looking at. She let out a breath of relief when she saw the girl standing in the middle of the living room. " _Yes!_ That's her! See, I told you – where did she go?"

Emmy was confused. Did she just disappear without a trace? How did she do that? _Oh …_ That's when it dawned on her.

She was a spirit.

"Sam," Dean called as he searched for the girl.

"Dean, there," Emmy pointed at the window.

Sam's arm brushed Emmy's as he stood next to her, watching the girl.

"Who are you?" Dean asked softly.

The girl didn't reply, dropping her apple. She simply flickered and vanished.

Emmy watched the apple roll into the carpet and it made the wheels in her head turn.

"She thinks she's Snow White."

 **SPN**

Dean sat on the hood of the Impala, tossing the apple in the air.

"Lollihops is gone," Emmy pouted, as she walked back from the park. "I've searched everywhere."

"Aww, cutie pie. C'mere." Dean wrapped his arms around her from behind and rested his chin on top of her head. "I'm sure you'll come across another Kermit, one who's less slimy."

Sam approached them with his hands in his pockets. "Paramedics picked up Cinderella."

"That's good." Dean threw the apple at Sam. "So Snow White, huh? Ah I saw that movie," he wiggled his eyebrows.

"Oh I remember that!" Emmy suddenly said. "It was back when I still when to school and I got sick so you made me stay in bed. And then we held a Disney marathon."

"Yup, that's the one." Dean ran his hand down the back of her head. So innocent. " _The porn version_ ," he mouthed to Sam. "There was this wicked Stepmother? Woo, she was wicked," he grinned but soon dropped it when Emmy looked up at him.

Sam was unimpressed with his brother's antics. "There is a wicked Stepmother. And she tries to kill Snow White with a poison apple."

"But the apple doesn't actually kill the girl, right?"

"No, it puts her into a deep sleep," Emmy recalled as she played with Dean's amulet.

"So deep it's almost like she's dead …" Sam's face lit up when realization hit him, he knew what to do next.

 **SPN**

After their talk with Dr. Garrison, bits of the puzzle finally fell into place. The Doctor had a comatose daughter who had been hospitalized since she was eight years old, she never woke up ever since. After a little bit digging, The Winchester brothers found out that Callie's stepmom poisoned her, putting her into a deep sleep. Add the fact that Dr. Garrison spends every day reading a tale from The Brothers Grimm to his daughter, and the strange cases suddenly made sense.

"So all these years, Callie's been suffering silently because nobody knows the truth about what mommy dearest did?" Dean concluded as they walked into the reception area of the hospital.

"And after all this time her spirit just gets angrier and angrier, until it finally just starts lashing out," Sam responded.

"Right. Meanwhile she has to listen to Dad tell her these deranged stories about a rabid wolf or a cannibalistic old lady. It's enough to drive anybody nuts."

Sam stopped walking. "Okay, but how are we gonna stop her, I mean Callie's stuck here, her father's keeping her body alive."

Dean rubbed his forehead. "It does make it a bit hard to burn the bones."

The emergency doors suddenly opened and Sam and Dean watched as EMT's brought in an old lady on a stretcher.

"Coming in!" one of the nurses yelled.

The brothers backed up, getting out of the way as they listened to what happened to the woman.

"Seventy-two year old female, sustained multiple lacerations and puncture wounds. BP is eighty over forty and falling. Sinus tachycardia."

A doctor pointed at a gaping wound on the neck. "Is that a bite?"

"Looks like she was mauled by a mad dog or, maybe a wolf?"

Dean inched closer to Sam and whispered, "What was the last story Dr. Garrison was reading Callie?"

"Little Red Riding Hood." Sam approached one of the EMT's, showing his badge. **"** Excuse me. Was she the only victim?"

"She was found by the side of the road, barely alive. Alone."

"We need to find her next of kin," Dean said.

The EMT searched through some files. "She has a granddaughter."

"Do you have an address?"

 **SPN**

While Sam tried to find a way to stop Callie, Dean went after the 'Big Bad Wolf'.

At the Grandmother's house, Dean didn't hesitate a second as he broke down the door. He moved through the house, his hunters senses on high alert, gun drawn. He crossed the doorway and pushed the door close. The house was eerily quiet but Dean was trained for this kind of scenario's, so it wasn't a surprise when he still caught a sound.

Dean followed the sound and froze when he came eye to eye with a little blonde girl in a red hoodie. She was huddled behind the couch, shaking like a leaf with blood smeared on her face. Emmy's face flashed before his eyes just for a second before he shook it off. Emmy was safe and sound, he had to remind himself.

Seeing that she was petrified, he crouched down and put his gun down. "You okay?"

She was about to answer when she suddenly screamed in fear.

Dean jumped up but was too late. The man attacked him and knocked the gun out of his hand. Dean landed several punches but it wasn't enough to overpower the man. The man picked up Dean and threw him over the table, into a china cabinet. Little shards of glass dug into his skin, it stung like a bitch. When the man lunged at him again, Dean suddenly caught some ink on his arm, the same tattoo Kyle told him about.

Dean grunted when he received another blow to the head.

What was keeping Sam so long?

 **SPN**

Meanwhile, Sam wasn't having an easy time either – he had a hard time convincing Dr. Garrison to listen to him.

"Listen to me, more people are going to get hurt, because Callie is going to hurt them."

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Dr. Garrison reached out to call security but Sam stopped him.

"You're gonna think I'm crazy, but just understand me. Your daughter Callie is still here. She's a spirit."

Dr. Garrison looked over at Callie sadly. He let out a tired sigh and sat at the end of her bed. "You've seen her too?"

Sam's face fell, surprised.

"I sensed her ... Callie. Her presence, her scent. I even saw her standing at the foot of my bed but I never... believed it, I thought I was dreaming, I—"

"It wasn't a dream," Sam interjected. "She looks like she did when she was eight. White dress. Red ribbon in her hair. She's been trying to talk to you."

Callie's father eyed Sam. "You're not a cop are you?"

"No."

The doctor nodded to himself, his suspicions confirmed. "What you said about my wife poisoning Callie, that's—"

"Sir. Callie told us."

Dr. Garrison looked shocked. "What?!" he shook his head in denial. "My wife loved Callie. So how is – how is that possible?"

"I don't know. But it is."

Sam's phone suddenly rang, he checked the caller-id and instantly picked up when Emmy's name popped up.

"Excuse me just for a sec." Sam turned around, answering the call. "Emmy? Everything alright, honey?"

There was a static sound as she took a shaky breath. _"Uh, Sammy? It's staring at me."_

"What's staring at you?"

" _Lollihops. It found me."_

Sam frowned, that couldn't be possible. "You sure it's the same frog?"

 _"_ _Yes, it's the same frog! And it followed me all the way back to the motel. And I know I said he was cute but now it's creepy."_

"Okay, that is weird. Listen to me honey, just stay in the room, keep the doors and windows closed, alright?"

 _"_ _He won't stop croaking at me,"_ she said in a small voice. " _I think he wants me to kiss it."_

"It'll be alright, honey. I promise. Just do as I said."

" _Okay. Hurry up._ "

"I will." After Sam hung up he addressed Dr. Garrison once again. "You need to talk to your daughter."

The man clenched his teeth. "No. No I – I don't believe you."

"Look, Callie is killing people. She's angry. She's desperate, because nobody will listen to her. So you have to listen to her. Please, listen to your daughter."

 **SPN**

Dr. Garrison cleared his throat. "Callie. It's me, Daddy. Is it true? Mommy did that to you?" his voice quivered, his heart aching at seeing his daughter so peaceful on the hospital bed, yet inside she was suffering. "I–I know I wasn't listening before, but I'm listening now. Daddy's here. Please honey, is – is there any way that you can tell me?"

Sam caught a movement across the room. "Doctor..."

Dr. Garrison looked up at Sam who nodded at his side. Callie's spirit was standing beside the bed, looking sad and forlorn.

He looked at his daughter, his heart aching. "Is it true?"

Callie's spirit nodded.

"Oh – I'm so sorry, baby." Tears started pooling in his eyes. "But listen to me. You gotta stop what you're doing, okay? You're hurting people. I know everything now. I know the truth. It's time for you to let go. It's time for me to let you go."

Sam watched as the doctor turned back to Callie's body. He caressed her face and kissed her forehead tenderly with tears rolling down his cheeks. And soon the monitors flat lined causing Callie's spirit to disappear too.

 **SPN**

The brawl with the man left Dean bruised from head to toe. He was exhausted and all he wanted was to take a shower and get some shuteye. And that's exactly what he did – the minute his head hit the pillow he was gone to the world.

Sam peeked through the window at the night sky. Full moon. This was his shot, he had to do it.

Picking up his backpack from the bed, Sam froze when Dean stirred, turning over in his sleep. He waited until Dean was snoring again before he put his shoes on and grabbed his jacket. Sam was about to head out when he suddenly heard his name.

"Sammy?" Emmy sat up on the couch, rubbing her eyes. "Where you going?"

 _Dammit._

"Uhm, just getting some air. I can't sleep."

She squinted, staring at his hand. "You need the Colt for that?"

Sam sighed. "Emmy just go back to sleep, alright. You can have my bed if you want."

"I'm good," she whispered as to not wake up Dean. "You're gonna use it?"

"What?"

"The Colt. I'm not stupid, Sammy. I know what you're up to." She crawled out of the couch and tiptoed towards him. "You're gonna summon a crossroads demon to let Dean out of his deal."

"Listen, honey, I can explain – "

"You don't need to explain anything to me," she cut him off. "I understand."

Sam cocked a surprised eyebrow. "You do?"

"Yeah." She nibbled on her lips. Dean didn't think he needed saving but he was wrong.

Sam didn't know what to say for a minute. "Uhm, don't tell Dean."

She half-smiled, hugging him around the waist. "Just be careful."

 **A/N: hello my beautiful readers! Oh wow you guys amaze me every time with the awesome feedback. Keep those reviews/follows/favorites coming, I swear they do force me to crawl behind my computer to fix another chapter for you.**

 **So THANK YOU! Let me know what you thought of this one and if there's anything else you'd like to see :)))**

 **PS I've deleated chapter 3, the one with the Author's note – which means that chapter four became chapter three, and chapter five became four. So that might explain why some of you couldn't review because FanFiction doesn't allow you to comment twice on the same chapter. Except if you log out and review as a guest. Lol, did that make any sense?:P**


	6. Red Sky At Morning

Emmy stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked different – she couldn't pinpoint what had changed exactly but she looked different, _older_. Her birthday was in three days and she wished she could just skip it. Birthdays used to be something she looked forward to but not anymore. Birthdays brought bad luck and lately they had enough of that.

She reached over the bathroom sink and grabbed her hairbrush. Her long hair was damp from her shower and tangled. She tugged at it, trying to brush past the knots. Her arms hurt from holding them up for so long. Emmy glanced at the bathroom door and pushed her lip against her teeth in thought – she could just ask one of her brothers to help her out, they wouldn't mind, they never did. She shook her head, as if shaking off the idea. She was done being the helpless child, she'll be eleven in a few days, eleven year old girls didn't ask their brothers to brush their hair.

Letting out an aggravated huff, Emmy forced the brush through her hair, wincing at every tug. By the time she was done, her scalp ached everywhere. Her eyes caught a pair of scissors Sam had used to dress the bullet wound on his shoulder. She contemplated taking it and cutting off a big chunk of her hair, it would solve her problem. She eyed the scissors, her fingers itching to grab it and get it over with but stopped when she heard her brothers' voices. They were arguing. _Again._

Emmy quickly put her hair in a fishtail braid, she had taught herself after reading an article about it in some magazine. She dried herself off and got dressed.

With her dirty clothes in her arms, Emmy opened the bathroom door, bracing herself for the millionth argument. She was quiet as she walked towards her bag where she stuffed her clothes. Sam and Dean were standing in the middle of the room, seeming to have a stare off. Emmy decided to turn herself invisible, standing out of the line of fire.

"There's a bullet missing from the Colt," Dean suddenly said.

 _So that's what this is all about?_ Emmy sighed, she should've known that it wouldn't take long until Dean put two and two together.

"You want to tell me how that happened?" he confronted, arms crossed over his chest. "I know it wasn't me. So unless you were shooting at some incredibly evil cans..."

"Dean ..." Sam trailed off.

Dean swiftly licked his lips, he knew enough. "You went after her, didn't you? The Crossroads Demon. After I told you not to."

"Yeah, well – "

"You could have gotten yourself killed!"

Emmy jumped a little when Dean raised his voice.

"I didn't," Sam pressed.

"And you shot her."

"She was a smartass!" Sam exclaimed.

Emmy's eyes flickered between her brothers, silently awaiting their next move. She wondered if she had to step in again, she could never predict when things escalated.

As if feeling her eyes on him, Dean caught her gaze. He didn't like that look in her eyes – the one that reminded him of a four year old Emmy that didn't understand why Daddy shouted and got a little rough when he drank too much of that bottle she wasn't allowed to touch. He swallowed down the sharp words, forcing himself to stay calm.

"So, what?" he addressed Sam in a more composed way. "Does that, does that mean I'm out of my deal?"

"Don't you think I might have mentioned that little fact, Dean?" Sam sounded tired. "No. Someone else holds the contract."

"Who?"

"She wouldn't say."

It was just a glimpse but Emmy caught it, she was it flash in Dean's eyes even if it was just briefly – disappointment. Knowing that somewhere deep inside, he did give a crap, made her feel a little better. Just a little.

Dean rubbed his hands down his face, looking equally tired. "Well, we should find out who. Of course, our best lead would be the Crossroads Demon. Oh, wait a minute..."

Sam didn't smile. "That's not funny."

"No, it's not! It was a stupid freaking risk, and you shouldn't have done it."

"I shouldn't have done it?" Sam scoffed in disbelief. "You're my brother, Dean. And no matter what you do, I'm gonna try and save you. And I'm sure as hell not gonna apologize for it, all right?"

Dean shook his head in exasperation. He grabbed his jacket on the back of a chair and his car keys.

Emmy felt panic settling in the pit of her stomach. "You're leaving?"

Dean halted and looked down at her big blue eyes, wondering why in the world she would think he'd leave.

"Sweetheart, I'm just gonna put our stuff in the car so we can hit the road."

"Oh, uhm yeah, okay." Emmy felt stupid.

"Hey," he cupped her chin, trying to get her to look at him, "I'll be right back."

"Hmm," she simply said, not quite meeting his eyes.

Dean realized that maybe it wasn't that weird for her to think he'd leave, he did tend to turn to booze and girls to blow off some steam. But that was the old Dean, he had changed now. He wasn't ever going to seek comfort in anything that wasn't his family, not as long as he was alive. He was going to spend every minute, every second with the only two people that meant something to him.

Clearing his throat, he kissed the top of her head. "Be right back," he mumbled against her hair, taking in the familiar smell of her vanilla shampoo – yet another thing to add to his endless list of stuff he was going to miss.

 **SPN**

Emmy closed her eyes as she stuck her head through the window of the Impala, loving how the wind caressed her skin, making her feel like she could fly. She ran her tongue over her lips, tasting the salty flavor of the sea. Emmy loved the beach – the ice cream carts, the sound of the seagulls, the countless gift shops. Too bad she couldn't take a swim, it was way too cold for that. But Sam had promised they could take a walk by the docks if she wanted which was almost good enough.

A hand tugged at her skirt, trying to pull her back.

"Honey, you're gonna make yourself sick," Sam told her.

"You're such a party pooper, Sammy," she grumbled teasingly.

"Alright, we're here." Dean pulled up at an empty parking spot.

"Can I go too?" Emmy asked.

"We're just gonna talk to some lady about her niece's murder," Sam said.

She shrugged. "Sounds better than staying in the car again."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, as if deciding if it was alright or not.

Dean spoke first, a tiny grin tugging at his lips. "Fine by me, but I gotta warn you, you're not gonna like it."

Emmy pursed her lips, puzzled. "Why not?"

 **SPN**

Of all the times she could have tagged along with her brothers, she had to choose this time? Emmy had seen a lot of scary things in her short life – monsters, spiders or bugs in general and _old people._ Monsters you could kill, spiders too, but unfortunately not old people. Emmy was aware that it was one of those irrational fears and she wished she could explain what exactly scared her about old people but she couldn't. They were just scary, period. From the wrinkled skin, to their veiny hands and their witchy voice.

 _Shiver._

Now this lady, whose name Emmy learned was Gertrude Case, was a well-groomed, elegant woman – but it didn't make her any less scary. She had her grey hair neatly put up in a bun so tight, Emmy wondered if she did it on purpose to flatten the creases in her skin.

Sam and Dean introduced themselves as officers of the law. They went with the whole 'take your daughter to work day' to explain Emmy's presence.

"I think I'll just wait in the car," Emmy whispered so quietly, even Sam had a hard time to understand what she had said. But Dean heard, and with a teasing glint in his eyes, he pulled her back to stand in front of him.

"This is my daughter Emmy," Dean said, gently squeezing his hands around her small shoulders. "Emmy, say hi."

Emmy gulped. It took everything in her not to stomp on her brother's foot. She mustered up a small smile and hoped the lady couldn't see the fear rolling off of her in waves.

"Hi."

"Oh, look at you. Aren't you the prettiest little thing I've ever seen." Gert smiled widely, showing off her straight, too white and too fake, teeth. Emmy cringed. "She looks just like her daddy."

Emmy screamed inwardly when the old lady reached over to pinch her cheek – what was it with old people and pinching kids' cheeks?!

"Adorable, I know." Dean pinched her other cheek, grinning down at her.

Emmy shot Sam a look. _Help me._

He stroked down the back of her head in sympathy. He understood how she felt, he also received strange vibes from this woman, leaving him feeling dirty for some reason. Maybe it was the flirty look Gert kept sending him.

When Gert seemed too busy mentally undressing Sam, Emmy used the distraction to rub her cheek against Dean's hand on her shoulder in an attempt to get rid of the woman's touch.

Dean's lips twitched, he was having way too much fun with this.

"So, uhm is there anything you can tell us about what happened?"

Gert frowned. "But I don't understand. I already went over all this with the other detectives."

"Right, yes," Dean nodded, trying to come up with a valid explanation. "But, see, we're with the Sheriff's Department, not the police department – different departments."

"So, Mrs. Case..." Sam started.

"Please," she cut him off, her eyes intense as she subtly checked him out. "Ms. Case."

Sam shifted on his feet, feeling uncomfortable. "Okay. Um, Ms. Case, uhm you were the one who found your niece, correct? "

"I came home, she was in the shower."

"Drowned?"

"So the coroner says." Gert looked at the brothers as if they could provide her with answers, real answers. "Now, you tell me, how can someone drown in the shower?"

"How would you describe Sheila's behavior in the days before her death?" Sam questioned. "I mean, did she seem frightened? Maybe she said something out of the ordinary, or ...?"

Gert eyed them closely. "Wait a minute. You're working with Alex, aren't you?"

"Yep," Dean said, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "Absolutely. That's – Alex and us, we're like this." He crossed his fingers, the symbol of them being tight.

Gert smiled. "Why didn't you say so? Alex has been such a comfort. But I'm sorry. I thought the case was solved."

"Uh... Well, no. No, not yet," Sam stammered.

"I see." Her eyes once again trailed down his body.

Emmy looked up at Dean behind her and pointed her finger at her mouth, fake gagging. Dean dropped his lips on top of her head, trying not to laugh out loud.

Sam cleared his throat. "So, anyways, we were talking about your niece."

"Well, yes. Sheila mentioned something quite strange before she died. She said she saw a boat."

Dean cocked an eyebrow. "A boat?"

"Yes." She turned to face Sam, as if he was the only one in the room. "One minute it was there, then it was gone. It just disappeared right before her eyes. You think it could be a ... ghost ship? Alex thinks it could be a ghost ship."

Sam was a little thrown off by the intense regard. "Well, um ... Could be."

"Well, you let me know if there's anything else I can do for you." She smiled suggestively. "Anything at all."

Emmy's eyes widened in disgust as she watched the old lady trace her fingers over Sam's hand.

Emmy fake-coughed, catching the woman's attention, and smiled sweetly.

 _Hands off of my Sammy._

 **SPN**

"What a crazy old broad," Dean snickered as they walked along the docks.

"Why? Because she believes in ghosts?" Sam snorted.

Dean laughed. "Look at you, sticking up for your girlfriend. You cougar hound."

Sam chuckled dryly. "Bite me."

"Hey, not if she bites you first." Dean glanced at his sister walking on the railing near the water. "Emmy, not too close."

"I'm just watching the boats," she said. The water was crowded with moderately sized, pristine boats and Emmy never thought she'd find it funny to read the names. Minerva, Cordelia, Aurinda? What kinda names are those?

Dean pushed his hands down his pockets as he turned to his brother. "So, who's this Alex? We got another player in town?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Doesn't change our job."

"And what looked like a ghost ship, right?"

"Yeah. It's not the first one sighted around here, either," Sam started to explain when he suddenly caught Emmy slip. Being the closest to her, he was quick to catch her before she could hurt herself.

Emmy shot him a sheepish smile. "Thanks."

Dean found her hand and tugged her between them where she was safe and out of harm's way.

"You don't have to hold my hand you know, I'm too old – "

"Save it," Dean cut her off, fixing her with a pointed look that said he wasn't in the mood for one of her speeches about her being too old to hold her brother's hand.

Emmy bit the inside of her cheek but didn't protest any further.

"Every 37 years, like clockwork, reports of a vanishing three-mast clipper ship out in the bay," Sam continued, picking up where they had left off. "And every 37 years, a rash of weirdo, dry-land drownings."

"So, whatever's happening is just getting started."

"Yeah."

Dean nodded slowly in thought. "What's the lore?"

Sam breathed in heavily. "Well, there are apparitions of old wrecks sighted all over the world. The S.S. Violet, the Griffin, the Flying Dutchman – almost all of them are death omens."

"So, what happens? You see the ship and then a few hours later, you pucker up and kiss your ass goodbye?"

"Basically."

Dean's hand tightened around Emmy's when she once again tried to release his.

"I was just trying to get to the car," was her excuse.

"Stay," he told her, ignoring her mumbling under her breath that she wasn't a dog. Dean adressed his brother once again. "So what's the next step?"

"I gotta I.D. the boat."

"That shouldn't be too hard. I mean, how many three-mast clipper ships have wrecked off the coast?"

Sam smiled tightly. "I checked that too, actually. Over one hundred and fifty."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"Crap."

"Mm-hmm."

Emmy tilted her head to the side, baffled as she caught sight of the empty parking spot. "Where's the Impala?"

Dean dropped her hand, clueless. "This is where we parked the car, right?"

Sam observed their surroundings, he was pretty sure this is where they had parked. "I thought so."

"Where's my car?" Dean demanded, looking around with a murdering glare. Whoever took his car better show their face before things got ugly.

"Did you feed the meter?" Sam asked.

"Yes, I fed the meter! Where the hell's my car?" his voice rising in panic.

"Uhm, Dean, you need to calm down," Emmy said softly, carefully approaching him.

"I don't have time to calm down! SOMEBODY STOLE MY CAR!"

Emmy felt mortified when people started staring.

"Hey, hey, hey! Emmy's right, you need to Calm down. Dean – "

Dean pushed Sam's hand away. "I am calmed down! Somebody stole my car."

Sam once again looked around, maybe they could ask around if someone had seen anything.

Dean bend over, clutching his knees, trying keep his heartrate under control. He felt a small hand rub his back up and down.

"Dean, breathe. In and out, like this. In and out," Emmy proceeded to demonstrate, breathing in and out for him but it didn't seem to work. "Sammy? I think he's hyperventilating."

Sam came to her aid. "Whoa. Dean. Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy."

"The '67 Impala? Was that yours?"

The Winchesters all looked up to see a brunette woman sauntering up.

Sam's face fell in realization. "Bela."

"I'm sorry. I had that car towed."

"You what?!" Dean growled, ready to lunge at her.

" _Dean,_ " Emmy scolded, pulling him back.

"Well, it was in a tow-away zone."

"No, it wasn't!" he shouted. Emmy could practically feel him bristle under her touch.

"It was when I finished with it," Bela pointed out smugly.

Dean clenched his jaw. "What the hell are you even doing here?"

"A little yachting," she said flippantly.

Sam now understood. "You're Alex. You're working with that old lady."

"Gert's a dear old friend."

"Yeah, right." Dean cocked a demanding eyebrow. "What's your angle?"

"There's no angle. There's a lot of lovely old women like Gert up and down the eastern seaboard. I sell them charms, perform séances so they can commune with their dead cats."

 _That's a thing?_ Emmy wondered.

Dean huffed. "And let me guess, it's all a con, none of it is real."

"The comfort I provide them is very real."

Sam looked at her in a mix of perplexity and incredulity. "How do you sleep at night?"

She smiled. "On silk sheets, rolling naked in money."

Emmy caught Dean gazing off as if visualizing the image. She elbowed him in the side, bringing him back to reality.

"Really, Sam. I'd expect the attitude from him, but you?"

"You shot him," Emmy couldn't help but remind her.

She rolled her eyes, brushing if off. "I barely grazed your brother." She looked at Emmy, gesturing at Sam. "He's cute. But a bit of a drama queen, yeah?"

Emmy looked unimpressed.

"You do know what's going on around here," Dean spoke up. "This ghost-ship thing, it is real."

"I'm aware. Thanks for telling Gert the case wasn't solved, by the way."

"It isn't," he pointed out.

"She didn't know that." Bela looked annoyed. "Now the old bag's stopped payment and she's demanding some real answers. Look, just stay out of my way before you cause any more trouble. I'd get to that car if I were you … before they find the arsenal in the trunk." She turned around, waving her fingers at them. "Ciao."

Dean's nails dug into the palm of his hands. "Can I shoot her?"

"Not in public."

 **SPN**

Dean watched as his brother unwrapped his veggie burger. He was disgusted. "You're a disgrace to the family, Sam."

Sam simply smiled. He nudged Emmy with his shoulder. "Guess what day it is."

Emmy looked at him strangely. "I don't know."

She knew.

"Wednesday, November the ninth."

"Okay," she said through a mouthful of her own burger.

Dean threw a fry in his mouth, deciding to play along. "Wait a minute, does that mean that tomorrow will be the tenth of November? And the day after tomorrow, the eleventh? Huh."

"Wow, you can do math, good for you," she commented sarcastically.

"Cute," Dean smirked.

Sam chuckled. "C'mon Emmy, aren't you excited about your birthday Friday?"

"Not exactly," she mumbled.

"Don't be such a Debbie Downer," Dean teased. "You're turning eleven on the eleventh of the eleventh month! Isn't that awesome. You know that only happens once in your lifetime, we need to celebrate this. Right Sammy?"

"Hell yeah." Sam threw his arm around her shoulder, hugging her to his side. "What do you have in mind, anything you want."

"Do me a favor, let's not celebrate anything this year. Please."

Sam rubbed her arm. "Aw, now _you're_ being the party pooper."

"Yeah, cheer up a little, sweetheart."

Emmy put her burger down, suddenly losing her appetite. "I'm just not in the mood."

Dean lightly poked her under the table with his foot. "We didn't get to celebrate your tenth birthday – "

"Yeah, cause dad died, remember," she snapped, her voice breaking. "And now you're gonna die too."

A sudden heavy silence rested upon them. Both Sam and Dean had wished she wouldn't've brought that one up but they didn't blame her. They never meant to upset her, they wanted to do something nice for her, a little bit of a distraction because God knows they all needed it.

"Birthdays should be fun," she said with tears glistening in her eyes, "it should be about being together as a family and – "

"We can do that," Dean interjected.

Emmy shook her head. "No, we can't. I know you're good at pretending, Dean, but I'm not. I can't go and have a good time, fooling myself that everything is alright cause things are far from _alright_." She sniffed. "So if you wanna do something for me, then please forget about the whole birthday thing. I don't want a party or anything really, I'd prefer if we'd just ignore everything."

Sam sighed, hugging her closer as he ran his hand up and down her arm. "At least let us get you something."

"I don't want anything," she mumbled.

"C'mon, there's gotta be something you want. What about that computer you talked about?" Dean suggested, hating that she wouldn't look at him.

Emmy fiddled with her napkin. "Actually there is something …"

Dean sat up, eager to give her anything her little heart desired. He'd go to great lengths just to see that dimpled smile on her pretty face again.

"Maybe I will throw a party," Emmy finally locked her eyes with his. " … for my _twelfth_ birthday." She held his gaze, her blue eyes smoldering him. "And I want you to be there. Can you do that for me?"

Dean swore he felt his heart skip a beat, or maybe even more than one. Nothing hurt more than not being able to fulfill somebody's wish, and not just anybody's wish – his sister's wish, Emmy's. If he could, he'd give her the world on a silver platter even if he had to cut off his own arm for it. He'd do it, in a heartbeat. They say that if you really love someone, you'd go to hell and back for them – Dean already had that first part covered, but he couldn't promise he could come back.

Emmy picked up her burger again, forcing back tears. "I thought so."

 **SPN**

While Sam and Dean caught wind of another victim, Emmy waited near the Impala which they got back with all their stuff still intact. She sat on the hood, her feet resting on the bumper. She looked up at the blue sky and wondered if angels were really up there. Were they looking down upon her, was _Gabriel_ looking down upon her?

Emmy never was one to lose faith but she was barely holding onto it these days. She used to believe in someone or something up there listening to her prayers, she used to believe in destiny, she used to believe in _something_ and now she believed in _nothing._ Everything that could possibly go wrong, went all wrong at the same time.

At first she thought that they could save Dean, but now even Sam was nearly at his wit's end, they were both out of their depths, helpless.

Emmy cringed when she tasted a metallic flavor. She pulled her fingers away from her mouth, seeing that she had bit through the skin around her nails, a bad habit. She sucked at her finger to stop the bleeding. It made her think of Ruby – maybe she could help. What could possibly go wrong handing the demon a little bit of her blood? If Ruby was right, then she'd be able to summon Gabriel. If she was wrong and things did get south, then Gabriel would solve it, it was his job after all.

At the sound of heavy footsteps, Emmy glanced up to see her brothers heading over to the car. She wordlessly slid off the hood.

"So, did this guy also see a ship?" she asked.

"Yup," Sam answered. "You've been biting your nails again?"

 _How did he know?_

His gaze drifted to her lips and Emmy lifted up her hand to wipe away the tiny smudge of blood.

"Watch out, sweetheart," Dean said as he gently pushed her aside so he could open the trunk. He handed Sam a gun and ammunition when Emmy suddenly cleared her throat. She gestured behind their backs.

Bela.

"I see you got your car back."

Dean kept his back turned to her, his teeth grinding in irritation. "You really want to come near me when I got a loaded gun in my hands?"

"Now, now. Mind your blood pressure. Why are you even still here? You have enough to I.D. the boat."

Sam put his shotgun down. "That guy back there saw the ship."

She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Yeah? And?"

"And, he's going to die, so we have to save him."

She smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. "How sweet."

Dean closed the trunk with a loud thud. "You think this is funny?"

"He's cannon fodder. He can't be saved in time, and you know it."

"Yeah, well, see, we have souls, so ... we're gonna try." Dean put his hand on Emmy's back. "C'mon, Emmy."

Sam opened the door to the passenger's side when Bela once again opened her mouth.

"Yeah, well, I'm actually going to find the ship and put an end to this. But you have fun," she taunted.

Sam and Dean paused before getting in the car.

"Hey, Bela, how'd you get like this, huh?" Dean wanted to know. "What, did Daddy not give you enough hugs or something?"

"I don't know. Your daddy give you enough?" she shot back in a sharp tone. "Don't you dare look down your nose at me. You're not better than I am."

"We help people," Dean reminded her.

She made a mocking sound. "Come on. You do this out of vengeance and obsession. You're a stone's throw from being a serial killer. Whereas I, on the other hand, I get paid to do a job and I do it. So, you tell me – which is healthier?"

Sam was indifferent, he could care less about this woman and her concept of justification. "Bela, why don't you just leave? We've got work to do."

"Yeah. You're 0 for 2. Bang-up job so far."

 **SPN**

Sam yawned, sliding down the passenger's seat in a more comfortable position. He rubbed his hand down his face, he was exhausted. It was close to midnight and he hadn't caught more than a few hours a sleep for the past week, and it slowly started to take a toll on him. He blinked several times, barely able to focus on the letters printed on the papers. He gave up reading and watched Peter Warren's house instead, the latest victim's brother. Sam and Dean were afraid that he was next, especially after he confessed seeing a ship, and by the description it was the same ship Gert's niece had seen.

There wasn't anything suspicious to see so Sam relaxed once again. Dean lifted his hand to adjust the rearview mirror and Sam watched his brother out of the corner of his hazel eyes. Dean was supposed to keep an eye on Warren's house but he clearly had someone else to keep his eyes on.

"You always do that," Sam mentioned casually.

"Hmm?" Dean looked dazed. "What?"

"You're always watching her sleep." It sounded creepy but it wasn't, actually Sam thought it was kinda endearing. "Why, you scared she's gonna slip away if you take your eyes off of her?"

Dean was at a loss for words, he didn't really know why he did it either. His gaze drifted back to Emmy stretched in the backseat, laying on her side facing the front of the car. Her cheek was pressed against the palm of her hand, her little puffs of air making the loose strands of hair fly around her face.

"Force of habit," he breathed. "Ever since Mom died, dad kinda instilled it in me to never let her outta my sight."

Sam nodded slowly, understanding.

Dean went back to watching his baby sister, there was something oddly soothing about it. A fond smile played on his lips when she scrunched up her little button nose, he remembered her doing that since she was a baby. Some things never change. She looked so young when she wasn't up worrying her tiny ass off about him.

"Can't believe she's turning eleven now."

"They grow up fast, too fast," Sam agreed. "You know Dean, you shouldn't take it personal. She's having a hard time with this, that's all."

"So skipping her birthday is her way of dealing with it?"

"She's hurting and this is her way of protecting herself. She doesn't think she deserves to be happy, especially when you're not happy. Always putting other first, instead of herself." Sam smiled sadly. "Sound familiar?"

Dean didn't understand how Sam got her all figured out so easily. Maybe he was doing it wrong – he always thought that his sister was different and therefore looked in the wrong places. But she was like him, the same. He only had to look at himself to figure her out. When he thought about it, it seemed so logical, so obvious – he never granted himself any happiness either it if meant he couldn't share that happiness with the people he loved.

Dean didn't say anything for a long time until he gestured at the papers in Sam's lap. "Any good?"

Sam didn't fail to notice the change of subject, typical Dean. He decided not to dwell on it too much and turned his attention back to their current case.

"No, not really. I mean, both brothers are Duke University grads. No criminal record. I mean, a few speeding tickets. They inherited their father's real estate fortune six years ago."

"How much?"

"$112 million."

Dean whistled. "Nice life."

"Yeah. I mean, nice, clean, aboveboard. So why did they see the ship? Why Sheila, too? What do they all have in common?"

"Maybe nothing," he shrugged.

"No. There's always something."

" _Hey, you!"_

Peter had come out of his house, spotting them.

Dean saw the man stop near his security gate. "I think we've been made."

He threw a quick glance at Emmy, making sure she was still asleep before getting out of the car.

With his hands low on his hips and a threatening expression on his face, Peter confronted the two. "What are you guys doing?! You watching me?

Sam put up his hands. "Sir, calm down. Please."

"You guys aren't cops!" He took in their appearances and shook his head. "Not dressed like that. Not – not in that crappy car."

"Whoa, hey. No need to get nasty," Dean smiled, even though anyone could detect the hidden warning in his voice.

"We are cops, okay?" Sam tried. "We're undercover. We're here because we think you're in danger."

"From who?!"

"If you just settle down, we'll talk about it," Sam tread lightly to avoid things from escalating.

"Look, you guys just stay away from me!" Peter cautioned, running to his own car.

"Wait!" Sam dropped his arms in exasperation.

"Hey, you moron! We're trying to help you!" Dean hollered.

As Peter approached the gate, the car suddenly shuddered. And it wasn't long before it completely broke down.

Dean shot his brother a look. "That can't be good."

"No. Get the salt gun."

While Sam dashed to help, Dean ran back to the Impala. Emmy woke up from the commotion and sat up in the backseat when she heard someone rummaging in the trunk. She wiped the sleep out of her eyes and opened the door with a crack.

"What's going on?" she muttered sluggishly.

Dean finished loading his shotgun with rock salt and closed the trunk. He moved towards her and ran his hand through her hair, smoothing down the bed hair.

"It's okay, baby. Just stay in the car," he rushed out, closing the door.

Emmy pushed herself against the window and watched as Sam's fists pounded on someone's car. She didn't know what was happening – it looked like Sam was trying to get to this man who seemed to be locked inside his car, while Dean aimed his gun at the man. Emmy didn't understand, were they trying to save him or kill him?

It wasn't until she moved to the front seat that she had a better view inside the car. And that's when she saw the spirit sitting next to the man – he was dressed in seaman's clothes, his long hair dripping into his eyes. Peter started convulsing, choking on water and struggling to breathe. Sam's blood rush pounded in his ears as he failed to reach the man.

"Sam!" Dean shouted.

Sam ducked as Dean fired, shattering the window. The spirit disappeared and Sam reached inside to unlock the car doors. He pulled Peter back and checked for a pulse but after a few seconds, his shoulders slumped.

Sam closed his eyes, letting out a frustrated sigh. Another person he couldn't save. Lately he felt like he couldn't save anybody.

 **SPN**

The next morning, Emmy pulled a face when she opened the door to the bathroom. Cobwebs – cobwebs _everywhere_. She didn't understand why her brothers insisted to pick this house instead of a normal motel. Judging by the state of the house, it probably had been for sale for so long that people forgot about it. But Sam and Dean were adamant on staying low, hence why they were squatting.

She descended the stairs with a light skip and stopped at the last step.

Dean looked up from his phone, seeing his sister lean over the banister. "What's up, buttercup?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I need to pee."

"I just showed you the bathroom, sweetheart. It's down the hall, last door to your left."

"I know …" She dropped her gaze to wooden surface beneath her fingers, picking at the chipped paint.

Dean met Sam's eyes with a knowing smile. _Spiders._

Sam rose from the chair he'd been sitting in. "Alright, where are those monsters I need to kill."

Emmy grabbed his hand, pulling him along. "There's one in the sink, two on the ceiling, and another one inside the toilet."

Once they had reached the bathroom, she shoved him inside while she waited in the hallway, a safe distance away from those eight legged bugs.

"Alright, first of all, the one in the toilet is not a spider, it's a stain."

She scrunched up her face. "Ew."

He looked up at the ceiling and laughed softly. "Honey, those are flies."

"They look like spiders from where I'm standing."

Sam turned to the sink and shook his head. "This one's already dead."

She shifted, resting her full weight on her other foot. "Well, check if they're not hiding or something."

Sam gave her a look that said _really?_ But to please her, he made a show of checking every corner of the bathroom.

"No spiders. I promise, you're not under attack."

"It's not funny," she pouted.

Sam grinned, ruffling her hair before making his way back downstairs.

He heard a female voice and rolled his eyes. How did she even find them?

"Hello, Sam," Bela greeted. "So how'd things go last night with Peter Warren?"

Neither brother responded.

"That well, huh?"

Dean glared at her. "If you say 'I told you so', I swear to God I'll start swinging."

She exhaled through her nose. "Look, I think the three of us should have a heart-to-heart."

"That's assuming that you have a heart."

"Dean, please..." Her expression lost the nonchalance she usually carried. She was talking business now. "I'm sorry about what I said before, okay? I come bearing gifts."

"Such as?" Sam wanted to know.

"I've ID'd the ship." She started to unzip a portfolio file she had been carrying around, and unfolded it on the table. "It's the Espírito Santo, a merchant sailing vessel, quite a colorful history. In 1859 a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried aboard ship in a kangaroo court and hanged. He was 37."

Sam took a seat and examined the pictures. "Which would explain the 37 year cycle."

"Aren't you a sharp tack?" Always with the sarcasm. "There's a photo of him somewhere … here."

Dean studied the photograph of the man. "Isn't that the customer we saw last night?"

Bela looked at him. "You saw him?"

"Yeah, that's him, except he was missing a hand." Dean was sure of it.

"His right hand?"

Sam ran his tongue along his teeth. "How'd you know?"

"The sailor's body was cremated, but not before they cut off his hand to make a hand of glory."

"The right hand of a hanged man is a serious occult object. It's very powerful," Sam added. "But still, none of this explains why the ghost is choosing these victims."

"I'll tell you why," she said. "Who cares? Find the hand, burn it, and stop the bloody thing."

Dean folded his arms over his chest. "I don't get it. Why are you telling us all of this?"

A slow smile grew on her pretty face. "Because I know exactly where the hand is. At the Sea Pines Museum. It's a macabre bit of maritime history. But I need help."

"What kind of help?" Sam already dreaded the answer.

Bela's smile grew wider.

Emmy chose that moment to join them. She briefly halted her walk when she noticed Bela sitting at the table.

"Hello, Emmy," Bela beamed. "Do you like to play dress-up?"

Emmy's eyes wandered to Sam and Dean, confused. "Uhm, what?"

"Boys, do you mind if I borrow your sister for a few minutes?"

"Yes," both brothers replied in sync.

 **SPN**

Emmy didn't know what made her feel more uncomfortable, seeing Gert practically glued to Sam, or this stupid dress Bela made her wear. Although, if she had to be honest it wasn't that bad. It was a black, sleeveless dress. It hugged her around the waist and then went down, the hem ending just below her knees. If she twirled, the dress billowed and rippled around her legs. Bela put her hair up in a bun, not the messy bun Emmy was used to, but a classy bun. Bela wanted to use some make-up too but Dean wouldn't have any of it. Emmy didn't care really, she was just glad that she could keep her sneakers on.

Sam lifted her up on one of the stools at the bar and ordered her a non-alcoholic cocktail. He inched closer to his sister and lowered his voice so Gert couldn't hear his next words.

"Alright, we need a sign."

"What for?"

Sam wet his dry lips. "If I wink, you come over to me and cause some distraction."

Emmy frowned. "What kinda distraction?"

"I don't care what you do, as long as it gives me a break from Mrs. Can't Keep My Hands To Myself."

Emmy giggled, even though it wasn't funny. "I feel so bad for you, Sammy."

Sam leaned against the bar, relieved to see Gert engaged in a conversation with some other lady. "I'm so gonna kill Dean after this."

"Don't joke about that."

Sam instantly felt bad about the slip-up. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

Emmy thanked the barman as he handed her her drink. She twirled the straw in the cocktail and took a sip. "Hmm, this is good. Want some?"

Before Sam could reply, he caught sight of a grey mop of hair and it was getting closer. "Oh, crap."

Gert walked over to him, lacing her arm through his. Some people gave them strange looks, it was unusual to see the pair together.

Gert was in seventh heaven. "This'll get their tongues wagging, eh, my Adonis?"

 _My Adonis?_ Emmy mouthed in disgust.

Sam patted her hand. "Just remember, we're on business."

"Ooooh, but sometimes business can be pleasure, hmm?" She slid her hand up his chest seductively.

"Right."

Emmy caught her brother winking at her, this was her cue. She put her drink down and cleared her throat. "Hi, Ms. Case. Nice to see you again."

As if only noticing the girl for the first time, Gert's face lit up. "Oh my, I didn't see you there, sweetie. I was a bit distracted," she looked up at Sam with a twinkle in her eyes.

Sam never took his eyes off his sister, a silent cry of help at the tip of his tongue.

"Uh, Ms. Case, y-you look really nice today," Emmy tried once again.

"Why, thank you, doll. But I'm not half as beautiful as you are. I mean look at you," she gushed.

 _Not my cheeks, please don't touch my cheeks,_ Emmy kept repeating in her head.

But of course, Gert couldn't resist yet again.

Emmy tensed up when she felt the wrinkled hand stroke her cheek. _Yuck._

Now it was Emmy's turn to silently ask her brother for help.

Sam unwrapped Gert's hand around his arm. "Hey, Ms. Case – "

"Call me Gert."

"… Right, Gert. Do you mind bringing us some of that champagne. I need something to loosen up."

Her eyes trailed over his body, not missing an inch. "Oh, it'll loosen you up alright. I'll be right back."

Sam smiled tightly. It wasn't until she left that he felt like he could breathe again.

"I take my words back," Emmy said. "We're definitely gonna kill Dean after this."

As if on cue, Dean and Bela finally decided to join the party.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," Sam commented dryly, taking a sip from Emmy's drink. She was right, it wasn't that bad, a little too sweet for his taste though. He needed something much stronger if he wanted to get through this without any trauma.

Emmy startled when she felt a pair of strong arms snake around her waist from behind. Dean kissed her cheek.

"I spy with my little eye, the prettiest girl in the room."

Emmy took in his fancy suit. "You're not so bad yourself."

Dean adjusted his tie, looking smug. "It's okay you can just say it, I look hot. I know."

"Yeah, you definitely put the hot in psychotic," Bela rolled her eyes.

"You're just jealous you can't have me."

"Exactly how long do you expect me to entertain my date?" Sam demanded, putting a stop to their banter.

"As long as it takes," Bela answered.

"Look, there's security all over this place, all right," Dean said. "This is an uncrashable party without Gert's invitation, so..."

"We can crash anything, Dean."

Dean smirked at his brother. "Yeah, I know, but this is easier and it's a lot more entertaining."

"You know there are limits to what I'll do, right?"

Dean playfully wiggled his eyebrows at Emmy. "Ah, he's playing hard to get, that's cute. Come on. I want all the details in the morning!"

"Thank you," Bela offered Sam.

"Keep an eye on my cutie pie," Dean told Sam, poking Emmy's bun. "Hey, that rhymed."

Emmy shook her head as she watched them leave. "He's such a child sometimes."

Gert joined them once again, two glasses of champagne in her hands. Sam adjusted his tuxedo, already starting to feel miserable.

Gert handed him a glass and a toast.

"To us."

Sam looked at the champagne and swigged the whole glass. Emmy's eyes widened briefly. Gert however couldn't contain her enthusiasm. This was going to be the best night of her life.

 **SPN**

While Dean and Bela went off to find the hand, Emmy was bored out of her mind. Sam refused to let her out of his sight so she was forced to watch Gert touch her brother inappropriately. Emmy was pretty sure that this was sexual assault.

"Where's Alex and your friend? They're missing a great party," Gert said as she danced with Sam.

Sam tried not to think of where her hands were. "Umm, ah, I'm sure they're entertaining themselves."

"Oooh, naughty. Then I guess we'll just have to entertain ourselves as well." Her hand slid down his back, barely grazing his butt.

Sam jumped. "Whoa, uh … Ha, y-you know, Ms. Case, I—"

She tsk'd, eyes narrowed as if he was being a bad boy.

"I'm sorry, _Gert_ ... I don't wanna give you the wrong idea."

She put her head on his firm chest. "You remind me of my late husband, he was shy too ... till we got below deck."

Sam felt her hands cup his butt and pulled away. "Whoa!"

Gert chuckled. "Mmmm, you're just firm all over, ooh."

Sam looked freaked out. He caught his sister's eye and winked. Emmy shook her head, she was done getting her cheeks pinched. But of course Sam had to use his secret weapon, pulling out those puppy dog eyes even Emmy couldn't resist. She let out a heavy sigh and jumped off her stool.

Emmy tapped Gert's shoulder. "Sorry to intrude, uhm can I have a dance with my uncle please."

"Your uncle?" As far as Gert knew, Sam and Dean were officers of the law.

"U-uh, yeah, you see my partner and I are very close, he's like a brother to me," Sam quickly made up. "Emmy here – " He reached out to wrap his arms around his sister's shoulders from behind, relaxing at the familiar touch, it was so much better than having Gert's bony fingers prodding at him. "I've known her since she was just a little baby. She's like a niece to me."

"Oh, why didn't you say so. You go ahead, darling. But don't forget, I want him back," she smiled playfully at Emmy. "I'm gonna go powder my nose. Don't go anywhere," she winked at Sam.

Sam visibly relaxed. "The things I do to save people."

Emmy turned in his arms and grabbed his hands. "Wanna dance with me?"

Sam smiled down at her. "I'm not gonna turn down a dance with the prettiest girl in the room," he said, quoting their brother.

"Gert better not hear you say that out loud, she'll think I'm a threat," Emmy giggled.

With a fond smile, Sam grabbed her hand and spun her around in a twirl, her dress flowing out beautifully.

 **SPN**

Two hours and five trips to the bathroom later, and still no news from Dean and Bela.

"What's keeping them so long," Emmy whined, leaning her head against Sam's arm.

"How's the investigation going?" Gert asked from across the table.

Sam had practically forced Emmy to take the empty seat next to him, Gert had no other choice but to take the seat on the other side of the table. Sam thought it was perfect, finally some space – until he felt her foot trail up against his leg.

He shifted in his seat, scratching at the nape of his neck. "These things take time."

"People are talking about the Warren brothers' deaths. Strange. Do you think it's connected to Shelia's?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we think so."

"I think they had it coming, you know. In a Biblical sort of way." Gert reached over to firmly trap his hand between hers.

Sam knew better not to pull away. "What do you mean?"

"You know about their father?"

"No?"

"Come here, I'll whisper it to you."

Sam had no time to react as she grabbed him by the tie, pulling him closer until her lips were near his ear.

Emmy couldn't help but shoot daggers at the woman manhandling her brother.

"People say that the old man didn't die of natural causes." Gert's breath tickled Sam's ear. "Rumor is the boys did it. Nothing was ever proved, but, uh, people still whisper."

"Okay, okay, okay," he winced, pulling away.

Emmy grabbed Sam's hand out of Gert's. Gert looked surprised at the possessive move but Emmy had had enough of this old hag taking advantage of _her brother_. It was disgusting, it made her want to throw up. Suddenly Gert didn't think the young girl was as sweet as she had thought, she had competition. And Emmy smiled because she knew she was winning.

Sam noticed and tried not to laugh. "Um, so did, did Sheila have any connection to them?

Gert looked away from Emmy to address him, her eyes suddenly softened. "Well, none that I know of."

"Did Sheila have any kind of tragedy in her life?"

She took another sip of her champagne, already feeling a bit tipsy. "Yes. As a matter of fact there was a ... car accident when she was a teenager."

"What happened?" Sam asked, his thumb brushed the back of Emmy's hand in a subconscious way.

Gert didn't fail to notice but swallowed down the annoyance. "Her car flipped over. She was okay but her cousin Brian was killed. Why, is that important?"

"Uh... – "

"Finally!" Emmy cut him off when Dean and Bela approached. "Took you long enough, _Dad."_

Dean smiled innocently and rubbed her shoulders. "You had fun?"

"It was alright."

"Alright?" Gert interjected with a sneer. "I let you borrow my date for more than half of the evening, I think you had enough fun for the both of us."

Emmy's eyebrows lifted up. "Excuse me? You didn't _let_ him do anything, Sammy's old enough to make his own decisions. And you should know that he didn't wanna dance with you, cause you kept invading his personal space. Open your eyes, he's not into you. How hard can it be to catch a hint, lady."

Gert looked shocked, offended.

Sam cleared his throat, shooting the old woman a forced smile. "You know how kids get when they're tired, they don't know what they're saying."

Emmy was about to open her mouth again but Sam shut her up with a squeeze to her hand.

Bela could feel the tension in the air and whispered, "I'm going to get Gert into a cold shower."

"Great idea," Sam agreed.

As soon as the two left, Dean burst out laughing, holding his stomach. "Oh, Emmy, I love you so much."

Sam couldn't help but laugh too. He hugged his sister, kissing her temple. It was sweet having his little sister stick up for her big brother.

Emmy didn't think it was funny at all, a cute scowl was still painted on her little face. "I hate old people."

"Yeah, me too," Sam still laughed. "Me too."

Dean wiped away some tears. "C'mon Sammy, looks like you need a cold shower too. You stink like sex."

 **SPN**

Outside the Sea Pines Museum, in the parking lot, the Winchesters got back inside the Impala.

"You got it, right?" Emmy almost begged Dean.

"Tell me I didn't get groped all night by Mrs. Havisham for nothing," Sam pleaded.

"I got it – Mrs. _Who_?"

Sam waved if off. "Never mind. Just let me see it."

Dean pulled something out of his pocket and started unwrapping it. His face fell.

Emmy leaned over the seat to get a closer look. "That's not a hand."

"What!" Sam pushed Dean's hand away to see. "A ship in a bottle?"

"I'm gonna kill her," Dean growled. How she managed to set him up once again, was beyond him. But if he saw her, he swore he was gonna kill her _._

Emmy smacked the back of his head. "No, we're gonna kill _you._ "

 **SPN**

Back at the house, Dean examined the ship-in-a-bottle by the light of one of the candles. "You know what, you're right. I'm not gonna kill her. I think slow torture's the way to go."

"Dean, look, you gotta relax." Sam rolled up his sleeves, glad he finally could go back to his usual attire. He wished he could burn his tuxedo, it was the only way to erase Gert's handprints.

"Relax? Oh yeah, yeah, I'll relax. I can't believe she got another one over on us!"

"You," Emmy corrected monotonously. She was lying down in the couch, one knee over the other as she played around on her phone. Like Sam, she was also happy to finally be out of that dress – no matter how pretty it made her look, she'll forever associate it with a certain grey haired lady she wished she could wipe out of her memory.

"What?"

Sam looked at his brother through his bangs. "You ... Emmy means, she got one over on _you_ , ... not _us._ "

 _Beat_.

"Thank you, Sam!" Dean shouted. "Very helpful."

There was a sudden knock on the door, followed by Bela's desperate voice. "Hello? Could you open up?" Dean opened the door and he looked not happy. "Just let me explain."

 **SPN**

"I sold it. I had a buyer lined up as soon as I knew it existed," Bela explained herself.

Sam leaned against the mantel. "So the whole reason for us going to the charity ball was...?"

"I needed a cover." She shrugged sheepishly. "You were convenient."

Dean walked around her, waves of furry rolled off of him. He stood behind her and pretended to shoot her.

Sam tried to ignore his brother. "Look, you sold it to a buyer. Just go buy it back."

"It's halfway across the ocean. I can't get it back in time," she protested.

"In time for what?" Emmy asked, curious.

Bela dropped her eyes downcast.

Sam frowned. "What's going on with you, Bela? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I saw the ship," she whispered.

"You what?" Dean was shocked. "Wow, you know, I knew you were an immoral thieving con artist bitch, but just when I thought my opinion of you couldn't get any lower—"

Bela twisted around in her chair to glare at him. "What are you talking about?"

"We figured out the spirit's motive." Sam crossed the room and showed her a photograph. "This is the captain of our ship. The one who hung our ghost boy." At her lack of response, he continued, "So they were brothers. Very Cain and Abel. So now our spirit, he's going after a very specific kind of target – people who've spilled their own family's blood."

Bela gulped.

"See first there was Sheila who killed her cousin in the car accident, and the Warren brothers, who murdered their father for the inheritance. And now you."

"So who was it, Bela? Hmm?" Dean leaned over her, causing her to shrink just a tiny bit. "Who'd you kill? Was it Daddy? Your little sis, maybe?"

"It's none of your business," she forced through gritted teeth.

"No? Right. Well, have a nice life – you know, whatever's left of it." Dean slapped her on the back, clearly not giving a flying crap about it. "Sam, Emmy, let's go."

Dean walked towards the door, picking up his jacket along the way. When he realized none of his siblings were following him, he stopped.

"Emmy, c'mon."

Emmy was hesitant. She didn't like Bela at all, but she didn't exactly hate her either. After everything that happened, she learned to tolerate the woman. It seemed so wrong to leave her to her own devices, and by the looks of it, Sam was on the same page.

"Please," Bela pleaded. "I need your help."

"Our help?" Dean scoffed, not easily moved by her doe-eyes. "Now how could a couple of serial killers possibly help you?"

She nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. "Okay, that was a bit harsh, I admit it, but it doesn't warrant a death sentence."

"That's not why you're gonna die." Sam narrowed his eyes, as if seeing through her. "What'd you do, Bela?"

"You wouldn't understand. No one did." She clenched her teeth. "Never mind. I'll just do what I've always done, I'll deal with it myself."

"You do realize you just sold the one thing that could save your life," Dean spoke as she started to leave.

Sam sighed. "Well ... maybe not the only thing."

 **SPN**

That night, at the graveyard, Emmy helped Sam to set up the ritual. She handed him the candles, some herbs, a bowl with god knows what in it. After Sam drew the pentagram, he pointed at the bag.

"Emmy, hand me that jar please."

Spotting the jar, she fished it out of the bag and gave it to him. Emmy bunched up her eyebrows when Sam poured the red liquid inside the bowl.

"Is that blood?"

"Yeah."

She pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek. "So, do you always need blood to summon a spirit?"

"We're not sure if it's gonna work, sometimes it does, other times it doesn't," he answered.

"You don't even know if it's gonna work?" Bela shrieked.

"Almost definitely not," Dean commented, leaning against a tombstone with a gun across his shoulder.

"Does it also work to summon other things?" Emmy asked carefully.

Sam straightened to his full height, wiping his hands off of on his jeans. "What kinda things?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, like other supernatural stuff …" _Such as angels._

Sam was about to ask where the curiosity came from but was cut off by thunder clapping in the sky. Emmy startled when rain suddenly started to pour. She zipped up her jacket and Dean pulled up her hood, keeping her close to his side.

"Sammy, you better start reading!"

Sam grabbed the book and started the incantation. "Aziel, Castiel, Lamisniel, Rabam. Ehrley, et balam, ego vos conuro, per deum verum, per deum vivum cuivos cuiaves eos supermontes et per eum, qui adam, et avum formovit – "

Emmy shivered when the frosty wind blasted against her. She huddled against Dean's chest, his arm squeezing her against him.

Sam continued shouting in Latin when Bela yelled. "Behind you!"

The phantom approached and threw Dean through the air. He hit another tombstone with a painful thud.

" _Dean!_ " Emmy rushed towards him, helping him up. "You okay?"

"I'm alright." Dean got back up, pushing her behind his back. He looked around the graveyard and found the phantom putting a hand on Bela's face. Like Peter, she started coughing up water, failing to catch a breath.

Emmy and Dean helped Bela, supporting her through her heaves.

"Sammy, read faster!"

Sam picked up his pace, almost tripping over his words while thunder kept clashing above them.

"You... hanged me!"

Everyone turned at the sudden voice. The sailor's ghost was confronting another phantom, his brother.

"I'm sorry."

"Your own brother."

" _I'm so sorry!"_

The ghost charged his brother and Emmy found herself holding her breath. The two spirits dissolved into screams, leaving a splash of water, reminding them of two waves crashing into one another.

The rain died down and so did Bela's coughs.

 **SPN**

"Giving the spirit what he really wanted, his own brother – very clever, Sam," Bela complemented the next day. "So here." She tossed them each a packet of money. "It's ten thousand – that should cover it. I don't like being in anyone's debt." She smiled at Emmy, "You can keep the dress if you want."

"Uhm, thanks?" Emmy was a bit baffled at the amount of money in her hands, she didn't think she had ever touched this much money in her life.

"So ponying up ten grand is easier for you than a simple thank you?" Dean chuckled. "You're so damaged."

"Takes one to know one," she shot back. "Goodbye Winchesters."

Sam watched her walk out of the door. "She got style. You gotta give her that. You know, we don't know where this money's been."

"No, but I know where it's going..." Dean grinned. "Atlantic City."

Sam threw the money on the table, continuing to pack their bags. "Seriously? Atlantic City?"

"Hell yeah! Play some roulette. Always bet on black." Dean nudged Emmy. "You still up for Disneyland?"

Emmy half-smiled with a shake of her head. "Thanks, but no thanks."

Dean looked between his siblings, feeling the mood had considerably soured. "Hey listen, I've been doing some thinking. Um ... I want you both to know I understand why you did it. I understand why Sam went after the crossroads demon."

"You do?" Emmy wondered out loud.

Dean rubbed the side of his arm. "You know, situation was reversed, I guess I'd've done the same thing. I mean I'm not blind, I see what you're going through with this whole deal, me going away and all that. But you're gonna be okay. Both of you."

Sam looked up at that. "You think so?"

Dean grabbed Emmy, slinging his arm around her neck, kissing her hair. "Yeah, you're both stronger than me. You are! You'll … you'll get over it. But I want you to know I'm sorry, I'm sorry for... putting you through all this, I am."

"You know what, Dean? We don't want an apology from you!" Sam snapped.

"Oh, well, _excuse me_."

Emmy rested her hands on his arm, craning her neck to meet those emerald eyes that always made her feel safe and loved. "You should quit worrying about us. I mean that's the whole problem in the first place. We don't want you to worry about us, Dean, we want you to worry about you."

Dean's jaw twitched. "That's what you want, huh?"

"We want you to give a crap that you're dying, Dean," Sam said, his gaze intense.

Licking his lips, Dean nodded slowly but didn't add anything to that. He released his sister and started to gather their stuff.

Sam was disappointed and he didn't try to hide it. What does it take to get through his brother's thick skull? What does it take to get him to admit that he was scared, that he didn't want to die, that he _cared._ How did Dean expect them to be honest with him when he couldn't even be honest with himself. With a long face, Sam grabbed their bags and stomped out of the room, fuming.

Emmy looked at the empty spot where Sam had been and let out a long sigh. She understood his frustration like no one else and it pained her to see how much Sam was hurting. Like him, she also felt helpless but he must feel worse – Sam felt it was his duty to step up to the plate now that Dean couldn't. He felt like it was his responsibility to save his brother, especially after Dean did the same for him.

Emmy was about to grab her backpack when Dean called her. She turned around. "Yeah?"

Dean collected all the money and took her backpack from her hands. Emmy looked at her brother in confusion as he stuffed all the money in her bag.

"What are you doing?"

"I want you to have it."

She chuckled dryly. "What am I gonna do with ten thousand dollars?"

Dean pulled back a chair and sat down. He put his hands on her waist and pulled her between his knees. "You're gonna look after it and use it to take care of yourself. Buy yourself something nice, or use it when you go to college some day. Anyway, I trust you to make the right decision. I know because I raised you to be a smart and responsible girl."

Emmy shook her head, some strands of her hair escaped her ponytail. "I don't want the money, Dean."

He lifted up his hand and brushed her hair away from her eyes, his hands lingering on her cheeks. "I won't need it, sweetheart."

A lone tear rolled down her cheek as she choked up. "I'm gonna keep it until you come back."

"Emmy – "

"Don't you dare say it."

Dean smiled sadly. He had a hard time swallowing past the big lump in his throat. "Baby, you need to accept the fact that I might not be coming – "

Dean never got the chance to finish his sentence. His cheek pulsed. He could feel every finger leaving an imprint onto his skin.

Emmy couldn't believe she had slapped her own brother. Her hand stung. A part of her wanted to apologize and tell him that she didn't mean it, but another part – a bigger part – wanted him to _feel_ the pain, to soak it up and remember it forever cause it was nothing compared to the way his words _hurt_ _her_.

"Don't you _ever_ say that again," she sobbed, lips trembling, voice wavering. Her shiny blue eyes held so much emotions it made Dean dizzy just looking at her. "You _will_ be back, Dean. One day, you'll be back. You have to."

Dean didn't have the heart to confront her with the ugly truth. He always admired his sister for having so much hope and faith, she always carried enough for the both of them. And he knew that whatever she was holding onto right now was running thin. She was on the brink of breaking down and he didn't want to be the one to push her over the edge. She proudly held her head high, chin up – and like Sam, she wasn't giving up. Like a true Winchester.

"C'mere," he muttered, pulling her into his embrace.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding on so tight, Dean could barely breath but he didn't care. He'd absorb as much of her love as he could, the fuel to his strength cause he knew he'd need it. He stroked the back of her head, using his other hand to rub her shaking back. She was crying in his arms, bawling her eyes out and Dean pretended it was like that time she was five and cried because there was no toy in the cereal box. But his conscience painfully reminded him that that wasn't why she was crying her little heart out.

He turned his face to kiss the side of her face, his lips wet with her tears. He nuzzled the crown of her head and closed his eyes.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart."

 **A/N: tissues, I need tissues.**

 **This was one long ass chapter, what an emotional rollercoaster! And to think that we haven't even reached the end yet. I'm sorry Emmy for putting you through this :(**

 **Please don't forget to review/follow/favorite, I'm not lying when I say that your support and feedback really keeps me going. Massive thank you for everyone reading this!**

 **PS: if you wanna know how Emmy's dress looked like, check out my tumblr: mayremmy**

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**


	7. Fresh Blood, Part One

**A/N: I've split this episode into two parts because it was getting a bit too long.**

 **Please enjoy PART I**

Bela felt every hair on the back of her neck stand – she could feel the presence behind her, she could feel the warmth the body was emitting. With a slight tilt of her head, she caught a reflection of the intruder in the window of her car.

"It's rude to sneak up on people."

"Bela Talbot."

She slowly turned around, her eyes studying the man in front of her. "You have me at a disadvantage. I don't know who you are."

"Gordon Walker." The man smiled, flashing his straight white teeth. 

Bela's fingers tightened around the keys in her hand, panic briefly flashed across her face before she composed herself. "I've heard of you. Heard you were in prison."

"Got out." 

"Released early on good behavior?" Sarcasm was always her way of masking how she really felt – and right at this moment, she felt panic. She casually unlocked the car and reached inside when Gordon suddenly cleared his throat.

"Looking for this?" He removed the safety clip of the gun she was looking for, enjoying the perturbation rolling off of her in waves. "I know you were just in Massachusetts, and I know you were with the Winchesters. Tell me where they are."

"I don't think I know."

"You don't." Gordon decided to take out the bigger guns and aimed a much larger handgun at her. "Why don't you think a little harder?"

Bela gulped, eyes wide. "Put that down. What's so pressing about finding the boys, anyway?"

"Sam Winchester's the Antichrist."

"Mhmm." Bela nodded slowly, thinking this man had absolutely lost his mind. "I'd heard something about that … from my good friend, the Easter Bunny, who'd heard it from the Tooth Fairy. Are you off your meds?"

"It's true," Gordon gritted out. He knew when people were mocking him and Bela was exactly doing just that. "The world hangs in the balance. So you go ahead and be a smart-ass, but tell me where they are, or I shoot."

"Gordon, you and I don't know each other very well, so let me tell you a little something about me. I don't respond well to threats, but you make me an offer? And I think you'll find me highly cooperative."

"Okay, how about …" Gordon's tongue darted out to wet his lips. "You tell me where they are, or I'll kill you right now?" 

Bela's eyes flickered to the gun but her gaze didn't linger. Instead she fixed Gordon's glare full on.  
"Kill me. Good luck finding Sam and Dean."

Gordon grimaced. "I can wrangle up three grand." 

She smiled. "I don't get out of bed for three grand."

Gordon cursed under his breath. This wasn't going according to plan. As he lowered his arm, Bela caught sight of a small cloth bag hanging at his belt. Her eyes sparkled in interest. 

"Scratch that. Give me the mojo bag, and we'll call it even."

"Oh, hell no. This thing's a century old. It's – "

"Priceless," she interjected. "Believe me, I know. Now, how badly do you want the Winchesters?"

 **SPN**

Sam's hazel eyes peeked over the newspaper, watching his little sister drag a chair to the bathroom. She returned a few seconds later, lifting Dean's duffel bag onto one of the beds. She proceeded to rummage through it, taking out some toiletries.

"What are you doing?"

Emmy looked up at her brother, a small grin connecting her dimpled cheeks. "Oh, Dean said that I could shave him."

"You're not gonna eat your breakfast first?"

"Later," she threw over her shoulder, already making her way back to the bathroom.

Dean tightened the towel around his waist just as she entered. He patted the chair, letting her climb on it. He felt a slight pang at the fact that she was nearly as tall as him – he remembered a time where she was this small little thing, even when she stood on a chair, he always towered over her. But his _little_ sister wasn't so little anymore.

Emmy put down all the stuff she thought she'd need in the bathroom sink. Dean chuckled when he caught sight of a little pink bottle of perfume he once bought her, it smelled like cherries. She had liked the smell so he had gotten it for her.

"I don't think I'm gonna need this, sweetheart."

"Dad always used to spray some of his cologne on his face after shaving," she responded, big blue eyes flashing nothing but innocence.

Dean didn't have the heart to point out to her that men prefer perfume that smelled _manly_ and not _sweet_. Oh well, if that's what she wanted. He'd go around smelling like cherries all day if that would put a smile on her cute little face.

"Alright, step one – we need to wash my face first."

"But you just got out of the shower," she pointed out.

Dean tapped her tiny button nose. "True, but let's just go through the standard procedure. You're gonna have to know this for when Sammy decides to let more than just his hair on top of his head grow long. Wouldn't want him to look like Bigfoot, right?"

" _I heard that,_ " Sam called out from the other room.

Dean winked at her, causing her to giggle.

He grabbed a washcloth and held it under the faucet. "Never use cold or hot water, go for something in between."

"Okay," Emmy nodded. She took the washcloth and used it to gently dab Dean's face, laughing softly whenever he pulled a funny face. "Alright, I'm done. What's next?"

"Step two – shaving cream." Dean held up the bottle and squirted some into her small hands. "Now rub it all over my cheeks and my chin."

Emmy did as she was told. "Your skin is really scratchy."

"Yeah? Well soon it's gonna be as smooth as a baby's bottom." Dean turned his head to give her a better angle. "Don't forget my mustache."

Emmy used her fingers to spread the foam on his upper lip, giggling when he wiggled his nose.

"Done?" he asked.

"Yup!"

Dean turned to face the mirror, examining her work. "Not bad, not bad at all."

"You look like Santa," she laughed as she washed her hands. Even Sam's laughter could be heard in the background.

"Still better than Bigfoot," Dean muttered under his breath. He had some shaving cream on his finger and wiped it off on Emmy's cheek.

She wasn't impressed. "Real mature." After drying her hands, she fixed her ponytail. "Now what?"

"Now, we start shaving." Dean threw the razor blade in the air, catching it single handedly. "Be careful with this, I don't want you to cut yourself."

Emmy cocked a single eyebrow. "I think you should be worrying about you. So how do I do this?"

Dean carefully wrapped her fingers around the razor blade. "Start with my cheeks, go up and down. When you move to my neck and jaw you do the opposite, down and up. Got it?"

"Uhu," she nodded eagerly.

She worked so gentle and accurate, it brought a fond smile to Dean's lips. He watched as the tip of her tongue poked between her lips in concentration, and he thought it was the cutest thing.

Emmy enjoyed how smoothly the razor glided over her brother's face. There was something oddly satisfying about shaving off the cream and turning the stubbled surface into soft skin. Emmy was almost done when she suddenly miscalculated the sharp edge of Dean's jaw , nicking him in the process.

Her eyes widened in panic at the sight of a drop of blood. "Oh no! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Does it hurt? I'm sorry – "

"Hey, I'm fine, cutie pie. It's just a little cut," Dean was clearly amused.

She gnawed on her bottom lip, eyeing the drop of blood leaving a trace down his jaw to his neck. "Does it hurt?"

"The fact that you think a shaving cut hurt me – me, your strong big brother, who kills monsters in his spare time, that hurts my _feelings…_ and my ego."

"Stop joking around," she grumbled, picking up the washcloth and using it to dry his face. "There you go. How did I do?"

Dean didn't even have to check his reflection in the mirror to know she did great. "Thanks, it's perfect, sweetheart."

"Wait, I'm not done yet." Emmy got the perfume, spraying some on her hands before applying it on his cheeks. There wasn't any alcohol in it so it didn't sting. She cupped her brother's cheeks and kissed the little cut better. "Now I'm done."

Dean's eyes stung at the sweet gesture. Every time she did these type of things, he'd find himself wondering why he was deliberately going to hell again – then he'd remember Sam, his brother, and his gut would twist in a mix of turmoil, affliction and anguish.

"Hey," Sam suddenly appeared at the doorway of the bathroom, phone in his hand. "Bela just called. Something about a vamp's nest near Albany. Wanna take this one?"

"Sammy, you know me – I'm not one to turn down an opportunity to behead a bloodsucker." Dean's arm slid around Emmy's waist, effortlessly lifting her up from the chair. "Go eat your breakfast while I get dressed." He kissed her face twice before putting her back on her feet.

 **SPN**

The Winchester brothers were getting ready, packing their bags with all the necessities needed to exterminate the vampires. Dean checked if their guns were loaded, knives and axes sharp enough to decapitate some fanged bastards.

Sam was looking for his phone when he remembered he had given it to Emmy to play with it. Her battery had died and she was too lazy to search for her charger, she most likely forgot it in the car again. Sam's gaze lingered on Emmy sitting across the room for a few seconds, his eyes slightly narrowing in thought.

He turned to Dean with an uncompromising expression. "We're not taking Emmy with us."

Dean's hand froze on his bag, just as he was about to zip it up. "Come again?"

Sam threw a quick look over his shoulder, making sure to keep his voice low. "Don't tell me you forgot what happened last time. First with Dad – those vamps could smell her on us, they went batshit crazy and that was just her scent. And then back at Wyoming with Gordon, you remember how they reacted to her blood?"

"Of course I remember, Sam," Dean nearly growled, as if he was ever going to forget about that. "We can't leave her here all by herself."

"It's only a two hour drive. Let's just check it out first, make sure Bela's right. If she is, we come back for Emmy and take her with us. We'll be back by midnight."

Dean didn't seem convinced. His jaw twitched as he glanced at their sister.

Sam recognized that look instantly. "Dean, she's not a baby anymore. I'm sure she can take care of herself for a few hours."

With a hand rubbing his forehead, Dean sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right." They were doing what was best for her, he had to remind himself.

"Emmy, honey, come here for a sec," Sam beckoned her over. She put his phone down and made her way over to them with a little skip.

"Yeah?" she perched herself on his bed, careful of all the gear spread out on top of the bed.

"Listen, Dean and I are gonna check something out, see if it's a case or not. Meanwhile, you're staying here … "

Her eyebrows bunched up as she looked up at her brothers. "You mean like, _alone_?"

Dean clenched his teeth, not liking that lost shimmer in her eyes. "Okay, this is a bad idea, we shouldn't – "

"Dean," Sam cut him off, throwing him that look that told him everything was going to be okay. A look Dean was used to perfect over the years, he never thought he'd get that same look from his younger brother.

Sam faced Emmy, he picked up his hand to tuck some of her hair behind her ear. "We'll be back tonight, I promise. Do you think you can keep yourself busy for a few hours?"

Emmy wasn't going to lie, this was new to her. She was used to being left alone for few hours, but Sam was wrong – this wasn't a few hours, this was an entire day. But then she reminded herself that she was eleven now, eleven year old kids didn't need any babysitting.

"I'll be fine," she reassured them.

"You sure?" Sam needed to know, if she so much as gave away one hint of doubt he was going to call this off. He didn't want her to do anything she wasn't comfortable with.

Emmy nodded. "I'll probably just do some homework, watch some tv, finish reading Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, play some Mario Bros. You know, the usual."

"You're such a dork," Sam smiled fondly, flicking her forehead.

Dean still wasn't persuaded, he didn't like any idea where Emmy wasn't with him where he could keep a close eye on her. But he had to force himself to think of her safety again, she was better off here instead of anywhere near those leeches.

Emmy had to bite her lip to hold back a smile when Dean crouched down in front of her. His huge hands practically swallowed hers, his green eyes piercing hers.

 _Here it comes,_ Emmy thought.

"You stay inside until Sam and I are back. If you leave the room, believe me I'll find out. Keep doors and windows locked – "

"What if there's a fire?"

"There won't be a fire."

"But what if there is?"

"Emmy." Dean gave her a look, knowing all too well she was teasing him. "Don't answer the door, if anyone knocks you pretend you're not here."

"What if someone needs help though?"

"You tell them to go knock on someone else's door," he answered curtly. "I'll tell the lady at the front desk to keep an eye out, so no funny business."

Emmy's lips twitched. "So does that mean I can't invite the boy down the hall to play some Mario Cart with me?"

Dean wasn't humored. "Don't push it, little girl." He playfully pushed her back onto the bed, causing her to bounce and giggle.

It was close to noon when Sam had gone to restock the fridge while Dean went through the ground rules over and over again, until Emmy thought her head was going to explode. Many hugs and kisses later, Emmy let out a long breath when her brothers had finally left.

It was weird having the motel room all to herself, not that she was going to complain. Everyone needed some alone time, not to be lonely but to be alone with yourself. It gave her the chance to collect her thoughts, to think, to avoid conversation. But it didn't take long before Emmy found her mind recalling the thing that she was trying so hard not to think of.

Dean was dying.

Maybe being alone with her thoughts wasn't such an appealing idea. But Dean's time running out wasn't something you could just ignore. It was a fact, it wasn't something she couldn't change no matter how bad she wanted it.

Emmy shook her head as if to rid of the dark thoughts. She made her way over to the table where her brothers put some food. Emmy dug into the Styrofoam boxes, the smell of taco's making her mouth water. It wasn't until she cleared the table for more space, that she realized Sam had forgotten his phone. They had left for over an hour now so they were probably not coming back to fetch it. Oh well, maybe it was a good thing Sam forgot about it, Emmy's phone was still dead so at least she had this one in case of emergency. All the fuss Dean caused over her and he still managed to forget to check if her phone was charged.

Emmy was watching some cartoons while eating, her legs swinging under the table. Her eyes kept flickering back to Sam's phone for some reason when a sudden thought struck her.

Putting down her food, Emmy grabbed the phone. She pushed the home button, the screen lit up with a picture of her seven year old self on the screensaver. She was grinning into the camera, showing off some missing teeth, her cheeks covered in chocolate. Emmy changed her mind and put the phone back again.

Wanting something to keep her hands busy, she reached for her drink, playing around with the straw and ice cubes. Her gaze was fixed on the television screen but Emmy wasn't paying attention, her mind kept drifting off. She chewed on her bottom lip until the bitter taste of blood flooded inside her mouth. She let out a heavy sigh.

"Just get it over with, Emmy," she said to herself.

Putting her drink down, she once again grabbed Sam's phone. Typing in his password which was always some version of her birthday, the date was just in a different order. Emmy went to his contacts, scrolling down until she found the name she was looking for.

Trepidation starting gnawing at her, and Emmy almost gave up but she decided against it. She had to do this. For Dean.

Pressing the call button, she gingerly put the phone against her ear.

" _Sam?_ "

Emmy cleared her throat. "Uhm, no it's me. Emmy."

" _Emmy? What's up, you guys in trouble or something?"_

"Oh no, not really … " she trailed off.

" _Then what is it?"_

Emmy pressed her fingers between her eyes, already regretting dialing the number. "I-I'm sorry, it's nothing. Sorry I bothered you, just ignore my call."

" _You didn't just call me for no reason. You gonna tell me what's really going on or what?"_

"I just thought – I just thought, my brothers are out of town and they're probably not coming until midnight, so I figured maybe we should do that thing we talked about the other day at Bobby's, that is if you're not busy of course, cuz I can wait – well no, actually I can't wait, it's pretty urgent but yeah whatever you want I guess."

Emmy knew she was rambling, a nervous habit of hers.

" _Don't need to trip all over your words, sweetie. All you need to do is say please."_

"… Please?"

" _Alright, text me where you are and I'll be there in a few."_

Emmy let out a breath of relief. She still wasn't sure about this, but there was no turning back now.

"Thanks, Ruby."

 **SPN**

Two hours later, Ruby knocked at the door of the motel room, a paper bag in her hands. She could hear the scrape of a chair on the other side of the door. She looked up at the peephole and smiled with a wave. The sound of the chair being dragged away was followed by the sound of the door unlocking.

Ruby looked down at the young girl. "Hey you."

"Hey," Emmy replied, her voice wavering just a little. From fear or anxiety, Ruby couldn't tell.

"You gonna let me in or what?"

Emmy craned her neck to inspect the rest of the hallway, needing to make sure Ruby didn't bring any of her black eyed friends with her. When the coast seemed clear to her, she took a hesitant step back and opened the door wide.

"You sure I'm allowed to come in?" Ruby pointed down at the wooden floorboard.

Emmy followed her gaze to the painted devil's trap. She swallowed hard. "Oh right, I'm sorry." With the sole of her sneaker, Emmy rubbed at the trap until the outer circle broke.

Ruby could feel the spell was lifted, and took a step inside the room.

Emmy closed the door behind her, locking it again. "Uhm, just to be clear, you're not gonna tell any of this to my brothers, right?"

"I'm a lot of things, baby Winchester, but I'm not a snitch." Ruby dropped the paper bag on the table. She eyed the leftover taco's and decided to take a bite. "So, you ready?"

Emmy wrung her hands. "Not really."

"Let me rephrase the question, do you wanna save your brother?"

"Yes," Emmy said without missing a beat.

Ruby smiled. "Then you're ready." She clapped her hands together, her lips pulled in a wide grin. "Let's do this."

 **SPN**

Emmy closed the curtains, making the room dark. The few candles here and there where the only sources providing light. Emmy eyed the circular sigil with curiosity. The sigil was separated by four lines into four areas. Each quadrant contained a different symbol. Outside the circle, four other symbols were written. Four objects were placed at the farthest points outside the sigil.

Ruby grabbed a bowl and filled it with various materials. Emmy thought they looked a lot like leaves, herbs and petals.

"You sure this is gonna work?" She couldn't help but ask for the millionth time.

"It's worth the try."

Emmy folded her arms across her chest as she watched Ruby work. "You ever summoned an angel before?"

"Nope. In case you didn't know, demons and angels don't get along that well, I doubt they'd answer my call," she smirked.

"But you're the one summoning the angel," Emmy pointed out.

Ruby got up to her feet, wiping her hand off on her jeans. "Correction, _you're_ the one summoning the angel."

"What makes you think they'll listen to me? I've prayed a thousand times before."

Ruby put her hands on Emmy's shoulders, lightly bending over to reach the same eye-level. "I hate to bust your bubble, dollface, but praying doesn't work. It doesn't fix anything. Bad things happen anyway."

Emmy shrugged off her hands. "Don't say that. God always listens to our prayers."

Ruby's eyes squinted in interest. "That's not you talking, you know that right?"

"What?"

"You ever wonder where your faith comes from? I mean, after everything you've gone through, you'd think you would finally break up with that big guy upstairs. All he does is toy with your heart anyway." The demon picked up a blonde strand of Emmy's hair, twirling it around her finger. "But you still hold onto Him."

"What are you trying to say?"

"You're connected to God in some way, like he's got a tight leash on you. Whenever you feel like praying again, that's not you, that's him pulling at the leash." Ruby gently pulled at Emmy's hair without hurting her before smoothing it back like a caring mother would.

Emmy gulped. She remembered Gabriel telling her something similar. But as long as she couldn't wrap her mind around it, and as long as it didn't make any sense to her, she tried not to dwell on it too much.

"Are we done now," she said, trying to steer away from that subject.

Ruby walked over to the paper bag she brought along and took out some items. "One last thing." She turned around with a jar in one hand and a knife in the other.

Emmy felt her stomach tie up in knots. Just a little cut, she reassured herself, just a tiny little cut.

"Roll up your sleeve. It'll be quick I promise," the demon said.

As Emmy lifted up her sleeve, goosebumps popped up on her bare skin. Something in her mind told her to tuck her arm away and stop whatever she was doing. But the other part reminded her that if there was any danger, Gabriel would've long appeared to save the day.

"Alright, hold the jar under your arm," Ruby instructed. "It's better if you don't look."

Emmy's hand trembled as she held the jar under her other arm. The knife glinted as it caught the light of the candles. Feeling every muscle tense up, Emmy had a hard time relaxing.

"Close your eyes and count to three."

Emmy pinched her eyes close and started counting. "One, two – _OWW!_ "

"Shhh," Ruby warned her. "It's done, see?"

Emmy sniffed as she dared to take a look at her arm. The cut was smaller than she had expected, but it didn't stop the blood from trickling down into the jar in a steady pace.

Her mouth suddenly felt dry as she tried to speak. "How much do you need?"

"Enough."

A full minute later, Ruby took the jar and handed Emmy a clean rag. Emmy wrapped the cloth around her arm, pressing it hard against the cut to stop the bleeding. She watched as Ruby proceeded to pour a few drops into the bowl in the middle of the sigil. Ruby twisted the lid onto the jar and put it away. Emmy wondered why the demon needed so much blood if she was only going to use a small amount anyway. But before she could voice her question, she was startled when Ruby set the ingredients on fire.

Ruby grabbed Emmy's arm, pulling her to the side. She handed her a roll and Emmy looked at the few written words in a weird language. It wasn't Latin, that's for sure.

"It's Enochian," Ruby told her as if she could read her mind. "Read it, and keep repeating it until I tell you to stop."

Emmy watched the small fire, seeing the leaves and other herbs burn in a pool of her blood. She cleared her throat with a cough and wet her dry lips a few time before reading the incantation.

" _Zod ee r-reh doh? Doh noh koh ah b-beh rah ma g-geh. N-ah zod peh sah geh …"_

The words were hard to pronounce and Emmy was sure she was saying half of it wrong. She turned to Ruby. "Did I do right?"

The demon shrugged. "You sure got an accent but it will do. Read it again."

Emmy took a deep breath. " _Zod ee reh doh noh koh ah beh rah ma geh nah zod peh sah geh_ ," she recited more confidently but nothing happened.

"Say it again," Ruby said.

" _Zod ee reh doh noh koh ah beh rah ma geh nah zod peh sah geh."_

Emmy looked at the small fire and realized it was slowly dying. "Is that supposed to happen?"

Ruby frowned, no this wasn't supposed to happen. "Say it louder."

" _Zod ee reh doh noh koh ah beh rah ma geh nah zod peh sah geh."_

"Louder!"

" _ZOD EE REH DOH NOH KOH AH BEH RAH MA GEH NAH ZOD PEH SAH GEH_ ," Emmy almost shouted. She could feel her heart beat so hard against her chest, adrenaline shooting through her veins. The cut on her arm was throbbing and her knuckles were white as they gripped the roll. And still, nothing happened.

"Maybe you should use more blood?" she suggested.

Ruby shook her head. "No, that's not it. Give it to me, I'll try."

Emmy was reluctant to hand the roll over to Ruby but she didn't see what else they could do.

Putting some distance between herself and the demon, Emmy settled near the window, her back pressed against the wall.

Ruby chanted the same words over and over again but there was absolutely nothing. However, she wasn't giving up so easily, and kept trying until the fire was out and nothing in the bowl remained. Ruby angrily smashed the roll against the dresser in utter defeat. She could've sworn she got the spell right and the symbols. She had hoped with Emmy's blood, that the summoning wouldn't go wrong, but it looks like _she_ was wrong.

"It didn't work?" Emmy asked quietly.

"Stupid angels playing hard to get," she fumed. Ruby was about to kick the stupid bowl out of her sight when a sudden flame erupted from it, nearly reaching the ceiling.

Emmy screamed. Her eyes wide as she watched the flames grow out of proportion. Her arm flew up to cover her face, the heat of the fire biting at her skin. She backed up into a far corner and coughed as the smoke made its way into her lungs.

Ruby however was too late to step away – the fire reached out to her like an arm, wrapping itself around her throat. Emmy couldn't believe what she was seeing, her eyes almost popping out of her skull. She wanted to do something, anything, but didn't know what. Ruby was choking as the flame strangled her, even lifting her a few inches from the floor. Beads of sweat trickled down her face. The skin on her neck was sizzling as the fire squeezed tighter. She could barely manage to move her lips, mumbling something under her breath.

Emmy couldn't hear what the demon was saying. She was torn between keeping her eyes on the fire practically strangling the demon and protecting her faze from the hot flames. Suddenly a big whoosh of air swept into the room, knocking almost everything over. The curtain rods were barely holding onto the curtains. Several loose items were swept into the air, floating around. Emmy backed into a corner, wrapping her arms around her body to protect herself. Her hair circled around her face, and she winced when the remote control nearly hit her head. She slid down the floor and buried her face in her knees. She pinched her eyes closed so hard she was starting to see dots. She didn't know how long she sat in that position, flinching every time an object would collide against her.

The temperature in the room dropped abruptly. The heavy wind had died down into a soft breeze. The sounds of objects dropping to the ground were the only sounds in the room.

Emmy carefully and slowly picked up her head, blinking several times. The room was a mess, everything was all over the place. The sigil was destroyed, the symbols barely recognizable. Emmy startled when she heard a sound from across the room, without the candles it was hard to focus in the dark.

"R-Ruby?"

"I'm fine," the demon's voice sounded hoarse.

Coughing, Emmy winced as she dragged herself into a standing position. "What was that?"

"That was a warning."

Emmy flinched when Ruby flicked the lights on. She now had a better view of the damage in the room. But it was nothing compared to the damage inflicted on the demon. The skin around her throat was burned, almost black. If you looked closely you could even see smoke protruding from the wound. It looked so painful, Emmy couldn't help but ask, "Are you okay?"

"I said I was fine," Ruby snapped.

Emmy tried not to let the sharp tone get to her. "You said it was a warning, what does that mean."

"It's a warning for me, to stay away from you." Ruby stepped over the mess to one of the beds. She grabbed the sheets and ripped a piece of it, holding it against her throat.

"A warning from who? Gabriel?" Emmy sounded hopeful.

"Who cares! Look what those dicks did to me!"

Emmy jumped, shifting a bit on her feet. " … So, the summoning didn't work?"

"Does it look like it worked?" Ruby turned her back on Emmy as she grabbed all her stuff, haphazardly throwing it in a bag. Her gaze dropped on the jar with Emmy's blood and the corner of her lips pulled up in her trademark smirk. She picked it up from the ground and snorted – she knew what the warning was for but it wasn't her fault the fire tornado destroyed everything but the jar. Their loss, her gain.

Emmy didn't notice the missing jar, not when she was still recovering from the fact that she once again couldn't reach Gabriel. Tears prickled her eyes, that angel was her last resort. She had hoped that he would help her save Dean. He was an angel, there wasn't anything he couldn't do – at least that's what he used to say. But she was wrong, she put her faith into an angel, a god, that kept messing around with her like she was some toy to play with.

She was so stupid. So stupid to trust too much. Hope too much. Love too much. And now, that too much hurt _so_ much.

Emmy snapped out of her thoughts when Ruby jiggled the locks on the door.

Wiping away the tears from her cheeks, she sniffed. "Where are you going?"

"Sorry, kid. We tried."

"Y-you can't just leave me here in this mess?! Aren't you gonna help me at least? I can't have Sam and Dean finding out about this, they'll kill me. Please, don't leave, don't leave just yet, _please,_ " she blubbered, fresh tears rolling down her face again.

Ruby closed her eyes. She wasn't supposed to feel anything towards this little human creature, yet she couldn't ignore the pull. She chuckled dryly, a demon with a heart – _wow_.

"Fine, I'll help. Just stop crying, okay?"

Emmy nodded fast, forcing her tears back. She tried to keep herself strong and brave but inside she was crumbling, broken and lost.

Ruby sighed and put a finger under her trembling chin. "Hey, keep your head up and put those tears away. Nobody said it would be easy, so don't give up when it gets hard. We'll find a way to save Dean. I promised Sam, and I now I promise you too."

 **SPN**

The next day, Dean started waking up when he heard shuffling sounds in the room. He groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. Squinting his eyes, he threw a quick look at his watch and felt the urge to throw the sheets over his head and go back to sleep even if it was almost noon.

"Morning," Sam said as he emerged from the bathroom. "I got coffee, and doughnuts."

At the sound of that, Dean forced himself to sit up in bed. He was tired and felt sore all over but knew they had a lot of work ahead of them. His eyes darted to the couch across the room where Emmy's soft snores could be heard.

"She's still sleeping?" Emmy was an early bird, she rarely slept in.

"Yeah, she probably didn't get much sleep," Sam said, fondly stroking his knuckles down her cheek.

It was close to three in the morning when Sam and Dean had gotten back to the motel room. They didn't stay long enough to smell the faint burnt smell, or some objects missing, or the fact that the curtains had a different pattern. They only came back to fetch Emmy and drive back to Albany where they had more pressing matters at hand – like a vampire who had taken a particular interest in young, gullible women, _and_ Gordon frikkin' Walker.

Sam handed Dean his coffee and threw a newspaper in his lap.

"What's this?" Dean asked as he scanned the article Sam had circled. "Wait, another girl missing?"

Sam perched himself on his own bed, his hands cupping his steaming cup of coffee. "Yeah, and she was last seen at that club on Jefferson. The same club we last saw the vampire."

"Yeah, before he cut and run," Dean gritted out, taking a sip from his much needed coffee. "So, I guess Gordon's out of jail."

"I guess so. You know, how the hell did he know where to find us?"

Dean was about to lift his cup to his lips again when realization hit him. "That bitch." Before Sam could ask, Dean pulled out his cell phone, dialing a number. "Hi, Bela." 

_"Hello, Dean."_

Dean put the phone on speaker. "You mind telling us why Gordon is on the same case you gave us?"

" _He paid me to tell him where you were."_

Sam rolled his eyes. Typical.

"Excuse me?" Dean commented. What was wrong with her?

Bela chuckled nervously. _"Well, he had a gun on me. What else was I supposed to do?"_

"I don't know, maybe pick up the phone!" Dean nearly shouted but quickly lowered his voice when Emmy stirred. "And tell us that a raging psychopath was dropping by," he whisper-yelled.

" _Ah. I did fully intend to call, I just got a bit sidetracked."_

"He tried to kill us!"

" _I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was such big deal. After all, there are two of you and one of him."_

"There were two of them," Dean pointed out sharply. "Bela, if we make it out of this alive, the first thing I'm gonna do is kill you."

" _You're not serious."_ Her voice was void of any sarcasm for once and Dean was glad he got through to her.

"Listen to my voice and tell me if I'm serious."

Dean hung up and let out a long, heavy sigh.

Emmy chose that moment to suddenly wake up with a start. She was lightly panting, her heart beating fast. Her eyes instantly took in her surroundings, she wasn't familiar with the room until she remembered they had moved to another motel in the middle of the night.

"You alright, sweetheart?"

Startled, she noticed Sam and Dean were up too. They were looking at her, concerned.

Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her dry mouth. "I-I'm fine."

Dean cocked his head questioningly. "Weird dream?"

She blinked. "Yeah, something like that." The events of last night came back to her and her throat tightened up when she remembered they had failed the summoning. They had failed to save Dean. Again.

Sam shook the paper bag with the doughnuts. "Come get yourself a 'Double Choc' before Dean eats all of 'em."

Emmy wasn't hungry, she couldn't stomach anything but she didn't want to raise any suspicion. She slipped from the couch, a shiver running up her spine when her bare feet touched the cold floor. Emmy was glad she had put on long sleeves the night before as she wasn't ready to explain where the cut on her arm came from.

When she was close enough, Sam lifted her up on his lap. His arms snaked around her waist from behind as he pressed a kiss to the back of her head.

"So how did it go yesterday?" Dean asked her.

Emmy purposefully casted her gaze downwards to focus on her doughnut, anything to not meet her brother's eye, knowing he'd see right through her the minute she'd open her mouth. "It was alright. I almost finished reading the book about The Civil War so I can start on that essay soon," she said more to Sam. "There was also a Scooby-Doo marathon last night, and I think I fell asleep watching it," she lied, trying her utter best to keep her voice steady.

She sucked some chocolate from her thumb and addressed her brothers in an attempt to change the subject. "What about you two? What did you find out last night."

Dean reached over to grab his own doughnut. "Turns out there's a vampire, turning girls into bloodsuckers by feeding them his blood."

"Did you find him?"

"No, we got a little preoccupied by something else."

"Gordon," Sam clarified.

Emmy stopped mid-chew. "I thought he was in prison."

"Well, apparently we thought wrong," Dean smiled, even though anyone could see the anger and frustration flash in his eyes.

"So, what are you gonna do?" she questioned as she took another bite.

Sam pulled his cup of coffee out of her reach when she tried to take a tiny sip.

"Gordon's clearly after the same vampire's nest. If we find the girls, we find him – it's like killing two birds with one stone," Dean reasoned. He got out of bed with a groan and stretched out his arms.

Emmy put down her unfinished doughnut and Sam frowned. "You're not hungry anymore?" Usually he was the one who had to make sure she didn't eat too much of the sugar loaded pastry.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'll finish it later." If she took one more bite, she was afraid she'd throw up everything. Her stomach was still tied up in knots from the day before.

"More for me then." Dean picked another doughnut, shoving half of it down his throat.

Emmy couldn't help but shake her head at the pink icing smudged on his lips. He was such a child sometimes.

Dean's eyes twinkled in mischief as he grabbed her face, kissing her hard on her freckled cheek.

" _Dean!"_ she shrieked, trying to rub off the stickiness on her cheek.

 **SPN**

Gordon groaned painfully as he slowly, yet gradually regained consciousness. He cracked his eyes open one by one, trying to remember what had happened. His memory started to get back to him and he remembered chasing a vampire when the Winchester brothers suddenly appeared out of nowhere. At first Gordon was more than happy they had followed Bela's instructions, leading them right to him. But encountering them at the crime scene wasn't the plan – in fact, it messed it up causing him to not only loose his trail on Sam and Dean but it also got him right in the vampire's clutch, hence why he was in his current predicament.

Gordon looked down, he was tied spread-eagled to a metal bedframe in a room where he apparently wasn't the only one tied up – two young blonde women were in shackles, dangling from the ceiling. Gordon recognized them as the two reported missing women. They looked out of it, moving sluggishly in their bloodstained shirts. They were in the vampire's lair he realized, there was no doubt about it.

The sound of footsteps approached, making Gordon freeze in a weary position.

A man around his late thirties walked towards the girls. He was dressed casually, jeans with a leather jacket. You wouldn't think that this man was two centuries old, or that he had fangs growing through his gums. He looked nothing out of the ordinary, just a regular guy, and that's exactly how the two women fell into his trap.

The vampire who had yet to be named, approached the first woman and fed her some blood which she gulped greedily, almost desperately. "I know you're uncomfortable... but this is just temporary. The hunger will pass, and then you'll feel much better," he talked soothingly, as if he was addressing a pair of children.

It wasn't until he moved onto the second woman that he noticed someone watching him. "You're awake."

"Who are they?" Gordon wanted to know. He knew who these girls were, but he wanted to know who they were to _him_? What made them so special?

"Family."

"You always keep your family in shackles?"

"We're still getting to know each other. They have just been reborn," the vampire explained while feeding the other woman.

"You mean you grabbed some poor girls off the street and made them monsters like you," Gordon sneered in disgust.

The vampire didn't look offended or affected by the comment. "I do what I have to. We're a dying breed. But then, you know that, don't you Gordon? Gordon. Walker. One of the greatest living vampire hunters."

"In the flesh," he smirked.

"You're a big part of why my people are nearly extinct, Gordon." The vampire's voice was contained, leaving the hunter to believe he was holding back.

Gordon snorted. "Your _people_ are going extinct because you're a bunch of mindless, bloodthirsty animals."

"Right." The vampire laughed briefly, his sharp, white teeth flashing in the dark. "We're so much more bloodthirsty than you. Hunters slaughtered my entire nest like they were having a party. Murdered my daughter. I can't tell you how satisfying this is... catching a hunter responsible for so many deaths and making you lunch for my new daughters."

Gordon's eyebrows raised as he watched the vampire fingering the edges of a photograph. He showed it to him and Gordon saw a pre-20th century print of a young woman in sepia toned colors, presumably his daughter. The girl looked sweet and innocent but it did nothing to soften him up.

"Daughters? Try fang whores."

"Watch your mouth," the vampire spat, nearly crinkling the picture in his fist.

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings?" Gordon grinned maliciously. "I'm sorry. I forgot you're just a misunderstood victim. Even though you murder and spread your filthy disease on pure base instinct. You got less humanity than a sewer rat."

"I'm sorry you have such a low opinion of my people." 

"Oh, you have no idea," Gordon smiled, feeling pleased when he caught the vampire tremble with anger. There's nothing more satisfying than finding your opponent's weakest point and provoke them with it.

The vampire wasn't going to take the bait though, engaging in discussions and fights weren't worth it. Hunters like him thought they were the superior species, that they could get away with anything, well Gordon had another thing coming.

"Sorry, change of plans," the vampire suddenly announced. "I'll be going out to get your lunch. I've got a better idea for you."

He proceeded to take a knife and slit open Gordon's arm, then his own. Gordon was too slow in his reaction and stared in horror when the vampire pressed their cuts together.

"No! _No_! NO!"

 **SPN**

Back at the motel, Emmy was having a hard time opening a jar of peanut butter. She hadn't eaten much that day but as the hours flew by, her stomach ache was slowly fading into a dull pain that wasn't strong enough to delay her hunger any longer. She decided to make a sandwich, if she could just open the stupid jar. After some more twisting and turning, almost hurting her fingers in the process, she gave up with an irritated huff.

Sam was at the table, looking at something on his computer when his sister appeared next to him.

"Sammy, can you open this for me please?"

"Sure," he smiled at the cute pout pulling at her lips, displaying how she wasn't pleased with the fact she had to ask him for help.

With a flick of his wrist, he easily opened the jar and Emmy had a hard time not dropping her jaw in bewilderment.

"Show-off," she mumbled under her breath.

Sam laughed and handed her the jar. Emmy extended her arm to take it when she suddenly felt his hand on her wrist, pulling her closer.

"What happened to your arm," Sam asked, the lines on his forehead drawn in concern.

Emmy wanted to slap herself for making the mistake of pushing her sleeves up. She tried to push them back down but Sam wasn't having any of it.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked form across the room. He was sitting on one of the beds, sharpening his machete on a whetstone.

"It's nothing, I just cut myself," she rushed out, still pulling at her arm but it only made her brother tighten his grip on her.

"Yeah I can see that. How did you cut yourself?" Sam wanted to know, his thumb brushing the crust of dried up blood. He looked up at her when she didn't answer. "Emmy?"

"I-I don't remember."

The way she said it made his brow quirk. "How can you not remember getting a cut this deep?"

Emmy was getting frustrated by this interrogation, couldn't he just drop the matter?

"What's the big deal, it's just a cut. You act as if I lost my arm or something," she shot back, finally managing to get her arm back. She angrily pushed her sleeves down.

"Honey – "

"Sammy, just drop it!" Emmy didn't intend to lash out on him like that, and she knew she was only rising more suspicion by reacting so defiantly; but the attention on her cut brought back memories she was trying to store in the far back of her mind. She didn't want to be reminded of her mistake.

Sam and Dean watched their sister turn on her heals and disappear into the bathroom – lately it was always her retreat when she didn't want to be in the same room as them.

"What was that?" Dean was the first to break the silence.

"I don't know," was all Sam said.

Oh, but he knew…

Unlike Dean, he saw that cut up close and he was experienced enough to recognize the cut. It could only come from a knife, and not just any knife but a dagger with sharpened edges. The kind they used not to cut deep enough to touch any artery or to inflict any permanent damage, but just enough to break the skin.

 _Oh Emmy, what did you do?_

"So the vampire's still out there," Dean suddenly spoke, grabbing Sam's attention. "But first things first."

"Gordon," Sam nodded, forcing himself to get back on track. "What are you gonna do when you find him?"

"When we find him, or if he finds us..." Dean started saying, "Well I'm just saying he's not leaving us a whole lot of options."

"Yeah, I know," Sam sounded thoughtful. "We've got to kill him."

Dean stopped what he was doing just to stare at his brother in disbelief. "Really? Just like that? I thought you would have been like," he put on his best mocking-voice, "No, we can't, he's human, it's wrong."

"No, I'm done." Sam shrugged indifferently. "I mean, Gordon's not gonna stop until we're dead... or till he is."

Dean's phone rang. He looked at the caller-id and scowled.

 _Bela._

"What?!"

 _"I don't like it when people hold grudges against me, and more to the point, I'd rather you didn't kill me, so I went ahead and found Gordon's exact location for you."_

Dean was puzzled. "You're a hundred miles away. How the hell did you—"

 _"Hello? Purveyor of powerful occult objects? I used a talking board to contact the other side."_

"And?"

 _"Warehouse. Two stories, riverfront, neon sign outside."  
_

Dean was about to hang up but she wasn't done yet. 

" _One more thing. The spirit had a message for you._ " She took a deep breath before continuing, " _Leave town, run like hell, and whatever you do, don't go after Gordon."_

 **SPN**

Gordon awakened the second time that day, only this time he wasn't cuffed, instead he was hanging by his wrists from the ceiling. There was an incessant throb at the back of his head, he felt as if his whole body was on fire. Every nerve was incited, his senses intensified – he felt as if every light or noise was grating at his skin. It was all too overwhelming. He struggled with the chains, frustration biting at him. He wanted to rip something into shreds, he wanted to lash out, scream and shout.

The chains were suddenly ripped from the ceiling with a strength he didn't realize he had. Dust coated his dark, sweaty skin. His eyes were bloodshot, his pupils dilated. He was breathing hard, his nostrils flaring as he unwind the chains from his wrists.

He heard low moans, broken voices begging him pitifully and it took him a minute to pinpoint where the sounds were coming from.

"Please …" one of the women's voice whispered. "Help us. Please."

Gordon watched the woman eying him through her bangs, tears mixed with blood smudged her cheeks. A sob escaped her lips and all he could think about was how he could make her shut up. His hands cupped the sides of her face. The poor woman's eyes lit up briefly, a twitch of her lips flashed the only hope she still had inside her. But it was only short lived when Gordon's bare hands suddenly separated her head from her body.

 **SPN**

The empty bathtub felt cold against her skin, almost numbing her but Emmy didn't feel like moving. She hugged her legs close to her chest, dropping her chin in the crease between her knees. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks, tears of anger, tears of being hurt, tears of despair.

She never thought she'd say this but she truly hated Gabriel. He let her down in so many ways, her heart hurt just thinking about it. She also hated God, no matter what Ruby told her about the connection between her and Him, she was done begging on her knees. They could all rot away in hell for all she cared.

A knock sounded on the bathroom door. " _Emmy?_ " Dean's voice echoed through the wooden surface. " _C'mon sweetheart, you're not gonna sit there all day are you?"_

Emmy sniffed back some tears. "Just go away."

" _You think you can come out for a minute? You can't just lock yourself in every time_ _something bothers you. You need to talk to us, baby."_

"I don't wanna talk," her voice muffled by her knees.

" _Okay, no talking. Got it. Can you at least come out here so I can use the bathroom?"_ he compromised.

Emmy couldn't help but roll her eyes, did he truly believe she'd fall for that. She was tempted to tell him to pee outside but decided against it. Arguing never led to anything.

"Just leave me alone, Dean."

Dean paused with an audible sigh. " _Alright, well Sam and I are gonna go check out the address Bela gave us. We shouldn't be gone for too long. You got your phone on you?"_

"Yes."

" _Okay, call us if there's anything. We'll be right back, d'you hear me?"_

Emmy didn't respond, she wanted them gone so she could go back to wallowing in her own misery.

" _Emmy, did you hear me,"_ Dean repeated more firmly.

"Yes!" she snapped, annoyed. If they could just stop treating her like a little baby, that'd be great.

There was silence at the other side of the door and Emmy could only imagine her brother clench his teeth, his hands balled into fists as he fought the urge to just smash the door in.

" _Good._ _Don't leave the room,"_ he reminded her once again and Emmy knew he wanted to say more. When she heard the door of the motel room close, she finally let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

 **SPN**

Gordon watched as the Impala pulled away from the parking lot. His senses were on overdrive and he could barely keep up with all the impulses coming his way. It was like someone else was in control of his body, steering him in a certain direction. He followed his instinct, an animalistic force inside of him that only functioned by being fueled. And his fuel was blood – Gordon didn't know what heaven smelled like but he was sure that it couldn't be better than the scent of blood. The taste of it was arousing, empowering. He had a constant hunger for it and he had yet to grow accustomed to the different tastes. But there was one that stood out, a strong smell that led him right to this motel.

Gordon followed the scent, his mouth watering at the thought of getting a taste of the sweet aroma. It was easy, way too easy, to find the right room – and it was even easier to get inside the room. The set of different locks had nothing on his newly acquired strength. Her scent attacked his senses, almost knocking him off his feet. Her smell was all over the room, it was suffocating, yet it drew him to her like a moth to a flame. Gordon felt like an addict in search of his next hit, and it was right behind that bathroom door.

He could hear her blood rush through her veins, taunting him. The steady beat of her heart was drowned out by the sound of music. Gordon wanted to rip his ears from his head, going crazy at the loud noise. He could feel his fangs poking his gum, the beast inside of him fighting him to let it free. Gordon suppressed the compulsion even though he was craving it too.

With a single move, he separated the bathroom from its frame.

Emmy, who had been in the bathtub jumped up. She took off her headphones, her eyes growing like saucers when she recognized the man standing in front of her.

" _G_ - _Gordon_?"

What the hell was he doing here? How did he find her? Where was Sam and Dean? Emmy calculated the distance between herself and the door but there was no way she could get there without him catching her. There was a window in the bathroom but it was sealed. She could still put up a fight but she had a feeling Gordon was bigger than the last time she saw him. His muscles bulged against his shirt, and she was sure that he would only do her more harm if she fought him.

She shrank back when he suddenly let out a growl, there was something so carnal about it, so _not human …_ His eyes darkened, his whole body shook while sweat trickled down his face. Emmy's eyes darted to his mouth and her voice caught in her throat when he pulled back his lips, displaying his sharp teeth and fangs.

After she finally found her voice, she let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Gordon lunged at her and Emmy's mind sped up. She ducked under his arm and jumped out of the tub. The door looked so far away yet it was so close. Her hand barely touched the knob when Gordon backed her against the wall. Emmy winced, the back of her head throbbed.

" _HELP!"_

"Quiet!" the hunter snarled.

" _HELLLL – "_

Gordon backhanded her so hard, it instantly shut her up. Emmy felt her cheek pulse, her skin heated up, the pain was excruciating. Her tongue licked the corner of her lips where she tasted her own blood. It was a miracle he didn't knock her teeth out.

"If you so much as breathe the wrong way, I won't hesitate to separate your pretty face from your pretty neck. Got it?"

Emmy was too petrified to speak.

"GOT IT!" he shouted, his fist slamming into the wall, merely inches away from her face.

Emmy cowered, a tiny soft whimper leaving her lips. "Y-yes."


	8. Fresh Blood, Part Two

Sam and Dean sighed in frustration when they got back to the car. They checked out the place Bela found and much to their surprise, she led them straight to the vampire's nest. And Bela was right, Gordon had been in there but he took a hike as soon as he got the chance to. The only good thing they got out of it, is that they finally killed the vampire that was behind the women's abductions. It was too late for the women though.

But that wasn't the worst of it, the vampire was stupid enough to turn Gordon. Now the brothers not only had a grade a asshole to deal with, but a _bloodsucking_ grade a asshole.

Dean furiously ran a hand down his face. This game of hide and seek was taking a toll on him. "Man, we must have checked three dozen motels, empty buildings, warehouses ..." His hands tightened around the steering wheel with pent up frustration. "It's like a giant haystack, and Gordon's a deadly needle. We're running out of daylight. Won't have the sun slowing him down."

"Yeah, he'll be unstoppable," Sam agreed. He was much more effective at keeping his anger at bay, he knew one of them had to keep their heads clear if they wanted to stay on track. "Hey, uh, give me your phone."

"What for?"

Sam pulled out the SIM cards from his and Dean's phones. "Well, if Gordon knows our cell numbers he can use the cell signal to track us down." Sam opened the car window and smashed the phones into the concrete before rolling up the window again.

Dean cleared his throat. "When we get back to the motel, you stay there with Emmy and barricade the doors and windows."

"Why? What about you?"

"I'm going after Gordon."

Sam sharply turned his head to face his brother. "What?"

"You heard me."

"Not alone, you're not."

Dean gritted his teeth. "Sam, I don't need you to sign me a permission slip, okay? He's after you and maybe even Emmy, not me, and he's turbocharged. I want you two to stay out of harm's way. I'll take care of it."

Sam scoffed incredulously. "Well, Dean, you're not going by yourself. You're gonna get yourself killed!"

Dean's lips lifted in a bitter smile. "Just another day at the office. It's a massively dangerous day at the office."

"So you're the guy with nothing to lose now, huh?" Sam huffed, indignant. "Oh wait, let me guess. Because, uh, it's because you're already dead, right?"

"If the shoe fits," he shrugged.

"You know what, man? I'm sick and tired of your kamikaze trip." There, Sam said it.

"What do you want me to do, Sam, huh?" Dean sounded exasperated. "Sit around all day writing sad poems about how I'm gonna die? You know what? I got one. Let's see, what rhymes with "shut up, Sam"?"

Cue bitch face number twenty one.

"Dude, drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punch line. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid."

"I'm not!"

"You're lying. And you may as well drop it 'cause I can see right through you. In fact, even Emmy can see it now."

At the mention of their sister's name, Dean grew quiet. Sam knew he got his brother where he wanted and took that as his chance to get through him.

"She's scared, Dean. She's terrified of losing you. And watching you making jokes about it, as if you're just going on vacation doesn't help in any way. She's counting the days you got left – and instead of making the most out of it, she won't allow herself to get closer to you. And I know you've noticed it too – the whole _I'm independent_ stance, the fact that she won't sleep next to you anymore, she doesn't even ask for help unless she has no choice, and still _I'm_ the one she'll approach, not you."

Dean's jaw hurt from biting down so hard. "What are you trying to say, Sam."

Sam's eyes softened. "She's distancing herself from you, she's trying to soften the blow for when she loses you."

Dean was very well aware of that but he didn't see how he could do anything about it. "And you say this is my fault? How?"

Sam studied his brother closely, was he really that oblivious or was this just an act?

"You're pushing her away too, Dean," he said softly. "Every time you laugh about the fact your time is running out, it's like stabbing her. Every time you shrug off the idea of us helping you, you push the knife deeper. You're hurting her Dean by crushing every little speck of hope she has left in her."

"You want me to lie to her, Sam?" Dean growled. "You want me to pretend it'll be alright and get her hopes up?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying," Sam bit back. "You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out, and you're still going to Hell, and you're freaked."

Dean chuckled dryly. "And how do you know that?"

"Because I know you!" he exclaimed. "I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was four, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified."

"And what do you want me to do about that, Sam?" Dean shot back. He wished he could prove his brother wrong but the longer he thought about it, the more he realized how blind he had been all that time, stuck in denial.

"I wish you would drop the show and be our brother again," Sam voice sounded so broken, so different from the strong façade he tried to keep up. "It's what we need right now, it's what _Emmy_ needs. Dean, I don't think you realize how bad she wants her brother back. Or how far she's willing to go just to keep you here."

Sam wanted to tell him about the cut on her arm. Even though he hadn't gotten to the bottom of it yet, he had a presumption.

"Yeah?" Dean forced through his tightened throat.

"Yeah."

 **SPN**

Kubrick heard a noise and pulled back the curtains of his RV to look outside. When he turned back around, he startled when he came face to face with Gordon.

His hand flew up to his chest to still his beating heart. "Gordon. You okay?"

"Not even close."

"I thought maybe you were dead. What is it?" Kubrick eyed the man cautiously. Something was different about him but he couldn't quiet put his finger on it.

"Something ... happened."

A whimper sounded behind Gordon's back and it wasn't until Kubrick moved to the side that he noticed the young girl.

His eyes widened. "Is that, is that Emmy Winchester?" The kid looked frightened, her lips trembling with silent words he didn't understand. "Gordon what did you do?" he demanded accusingly. He knew they were after her and Sam but seeing the child standing in front of him, tugged at his conscience. Kubrick never wanted to hurt the little girl, there was a line to what he was capable of and he had to draw it. "It's alright, sweetie. Come here – "

"She's not going anywhere," Gordon forced out, his hand clasped around her upper arm pushing her back. His fingers felt the blood pump beneath her skin and it took everything in him not to sink his teeth in her flesh. But he needed her, alive. And once he had a bite, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself.

"Gordon let her go, you're hurting her," Kubrick barked out. "Gordon!"

Gordon finally released her and Emmy bit down on her lip in pain. His handprint burned on her pale skin and she knew it wasn't going to take long before it would bruise.

"What's gotten into you?!"

"They turned me." Gordon swallowed hard. He was distracted by their heartbeats. His eyes trailed down to Kubrick's chest and he wondered how easy it would be to rip his heart out.

" _They_ as in those fangs?" Kubrick paled. "I'm sorry. You know what this means."

"It means you have to kill me." Gordon grabbed him by the shoulders not missing how his heart started pumping faster. "But not yet."

"What do you mean?" Kubrick barely dared to ask.

"You have to let me do one last thing first. Kill Sam Winchester."

A sharp intake of breath turned Kubrick's attention to the youngest Winchester.

"P-please don't let him do it," she begged, speaking for the first time.

Gordon rounded on her so fast – his hand found her throat, squeezing enough to warn her but not enough to cut off her airway. "I told you to keep your mouth shut."

"Gordon!" Kubrick pulled him away from Emmy.

Emmy's hands flew to her neck as she coughed. Kubrick took a step towards her but she flinched and increased the distance between them. Her eyes darted between him and Gordon, as if to predict their next move so she could be more prepared this time.

"I'm sorry," he said to her, feeling bad for the kid.

"It's the only, it is the one good thing to come out of this nightmare," Gordon picked up where he had left of as if nothing had happened. "I'm stronger, I'm faster – I can finish him."

Kubrick sighed. "Gordon ... I'm sorry. You know I can't let you walk out of here."

"Listen to me. There is nothing more important. Please." They had no idea how hard it was for him to stay calm like this, how hard it was for him to not break their necks like a twig. How could they not grant him this one wish? "I can do one last good thing for the world."

Kubrick glanced at Emmy. He motioned with his eyes to the machete sitting on the table. She shook her head, knowing that this couldn't end well. Kubrick's eyes narrowed slightly, urging her to follow his lead.

"Yeah. I hear you. You know, Gordon, you're right. One last good thing." Kubrick cleared his throat in an attempt to keep the tremble out of his voice.

But it did nothing to fool Gordon. The newly turned vampire caught how his heart beat faster, the sweat coming out of his pores. Gordon recognized the smell of it – it was fear.

Emmy was as quiet as a mouse as she approached Kubrick with the blade. It took everything in her to keep her heart steady knowing how easily her emotions could betray her. But it was no use, because Gordon's hand shot out, driving it right into Kubrick's gut.

Emmy felt the bile crawling up her throat. The blood drained from her face, shock washing over her. Her whole body shook like a leaf as she watched Gordon retreat his hand from Kubrick's body like it was nothing. The hunter was sputtering, blood trickling down his mouth before he dropped to the floor.

Gordon turned around to face her and Emmy wished she could move but she felt nailed to the ground from fear. She hadn't fought him coming here, not when he threatened to suck her dry if she didn't follow his command. And she believed him – his movements were uncalculated, his reactions out of control. He only had been turned recently and Emmy knew that young vampires were wild and unruly. She didn't want to test that theory, she valued her life too much.

"Give me the blade before you hurt yourself."

Emmy's teeth chattered as she looked down at the weapon in her hands. Something in her told her to give it to him, provoking him would be a bad move. If she just followed his instructions, then his plan to use her to draw Sam and Dean will be more effective. And soon her brothers will be there to kill him.

But Emmy wasn't thinking straight. Her instinct pushed her to eliminate the threat, to save herself. It was almost like acting on autopilot when Emmy swung her arm back, meaning to stab Gordon in the heart but of course he was faster, way faster.

Gordon's teeth flashed as he grinned venomously, his hand around her wrist, stopping the tip of the knife inches from his chest. "You stupid little girl."

He dropped the knife, letting it clang right next to Kubrick's dead body.

Emmy didn't know when her body started moving on its own accord, but before she could think about it, her legs already pushed her to run. She dashed out of the RV but didn't make it far when she bumped into Gordon's hard chest.

"Where do you think you're going, Kitty cat?"

Emmy found a shovel on the ground and took it to take a swing at him but of course he easily blocked it. She tried again but he ducked, laughing like they were merely playing a game. Angry, Emmy landed a punch to his gut and he grunted before he managed to wrestle her down to the damp earth. She cried out in pain when he pushed down on her ribs.

Gordon threw away the shovel and Emmy's limbs flailed about as she tried to get his heavy body off of her. One of her hands managed to catch his cheek, her nails leaving deep scratches onto his face. She was pleased at first that she inflicted some pain on him but she soon regretted fighting him in the first place when Gordon suddenly gnarled at her.

Emmy froze when his fangs came out, inches away from her face. He sniffled, his nose barely grazing her neck where she knew her pulse was beating erratically.

"Stop it," he forced through gritted teeth. He groaned when the sound of her blood pumping through her veins grew louder. " _Stop it!"_

Emmy whimpered, not knowing how she could still her heart. All she could think about was how close he was to pierce his fangs into her neck and suck her dry. What was she trying to prove, taking on someone who was so much stronger than her? The only thing she did is enrage him more.

Gordon grunted as he pulled away. His fangs retreated as he looked down at her on the ground. "Get up," he spat. He had to give it to her, she was brave for thinking she could actually get away from him. But he was more agitated at the fact that she was running around like a nice piece of chocolate cake, taunting him, while he felt like he hadn't eaten for years, famished.

Emmy's legs shook as she scrambled to her feet, her knees almost buckling. Tears were silently rolling down her cheeks, her lips sealed as she was too freaked out to say anything. She realized that one wrong move could be fatal.

Gordon threw her a rag. "Cover that up," he ordered, pointing at her arm.

Emmy didn't realize that her cut had opened again, some blood trailed down her arm. She wrapped the cloth around her cut but struggled with her trembling fingers. Gordon reached out and she shrank back but it only made him pull her back with force. He tied the rag around her arm a little too tight and dragged her back to his car where he unceremoniously threw her in the trunk.

There were still tools in his trunk and they were painfully poking Emmy but she was too scared to utter a word. She was still shaking and she didn't know if it was because of fear or the cold air biting at her skin. Gordon tied her hands and legs before wrapping some tape around her mouth. Emmy didn't counteract or resist, knowing she wouldn't make the same mistake twice. She was beyond scared and the fact that a certain angel hadn't come to get her, only made her heart sink deeper.

 **SPN**

Back at the motel, Sam sighed dejectedly when Emmy was nowhere to be seen. He went to the bathroom and knocked. "Emmy, honey, we're back."

"She still in there?" Dean started for the door and put his face close to it. "Sweetheart, stop sulking. Can you please come out now?"

Dean's phone suddenly buzzed against his pocket.

Sam's brows knitted together. "You've had that phone two hours, Dean. Who'd you give the number to?"

"Nobody," he muttered, equally as confused. "Hello?"

 _"Dean_."

At the sound of Gordon's voice, Dean's shoulders straightened. He put it on speaker and growled out, "How'd you get this number?"

" _Your scent's all over the cellphone store. Of course, I can't smell you now_ ," he chuckled. " _Where are you?"_

"Well, I guess you'll just have to find us, won't you."

 _"I'd rather you come to me,"_ he suggested casually.

Dean smirked. "What's the matter, Gordo? You're not afraid of us, are you? We're just sitting here. Bring it on!"

 _"I don't think so."_ There was a rustling sound followed by Gordon's voice. " _Why don't you say hi to your brothers."_

The following sound caused a sudden iciness to wash over the brothers, freezing them on spot. Their hearts skipped a beat, a pang wedged itself into their lungs making it hard to breathe.

" _S-Sammy? Dean-n?"_ Emmy sobbed.

A split second later, Sam banged on the bathroom door only to notice that it wasn't even locked. There was a clear sign of a forge of entry. Everything in the bathroom was knocked over and Sam felt sick thinking of the force Gordon used to snatch her out of here.

"Emmy, baby, are you alright?" Dean's fingers tugged at his hair, pacing around the room feeling lost.

" _I-I don't know,"_ she cried earnestly. " _I'm so scared, Dean."_

Dean wanted to rip his heart out of his chest to not feel the way she was tugging at the strings right now. The fact she openly admitted she was scared, made him want to rip the world apart to get her. He wanted to hold her close and never let go, yet at the same time he wanted to _hurt_ something, _kill_ something.

"Honey, it'll be okay," Sam used his soothing voice. "I promise it'll be okay, baby. Dean and I will come get you and you won't have to be scared anymore."

" _I wanna go home,"_ she hiccupped, sobbing.

Sam found his hand rubbing at his chest, it physically hurt to hear her cry for help and not being able to reach her. "I need you to be strong now, Emmy. Can you be strong for us, honey?"

" _I-I don't know,"_ her voice was so small and so delicate.

"No, I know you can, baby," Sam reassured her. "We'll be there soon and we'll get you back home."

" _Sammy no, he's gonna kill you. Please don't come,"_ she begged, sniffing.

But Sam didn't care about himself, her safety was all he cared about right now. "Are you hurt?"

" _A little …"_ she whimpered. " _Sammy, I just wanna go home."_

Sam closed his eyes, forcing down the lump in his throat. "We'll bring you home, baby, I promise. Just hang in there for a little bit and we'll come – "

" _Alright well that's enough heart-to-heart for today,"_ Gordon's voice sounded through the speaker.

Dean grabbed the phone, his body fueled with anger and vengeance but above all, his overprotective and possessive side was showing. Anyone hurting his sister had a death wish and he was all too happy to collect it. No one touches his baby and gets away with it. A lot of things pissed him off, but threatening his family was asking for it. Oh the things he'd do when he gets his hands on that scumbag.

"Gordon if you hurt her, _I'll kill you_. As a matter of fact, I'll have your head either way 'cause you're a monster now. Funny how karma works sometimes. And when I'm finished with you, your mother's gonna cry after seeing what I've done to you."

" _My momma_ _is the least of your worries. I gotta say, I don't know how long I'll be able to hold off on tasting your sister's sweet flavor. Just so you know, she smells heavenly. It's hard to explain really, imagine being an alcoholic, well then she's just a fine wine begging me to drink her down the hatch."_

"GORDON!" Dean snapped, spit flying out of his mouth. "If you touch her, I swear to god, I'll make you beg for your pathetic life."

" _That's cute,"_ he deadpanned. _"Factory on riverside off the turnpike. Be here in 20 minutes or your precious sister dies."_

" _SONUVABITCH!"_ Dean smashed his phone across the room, leaving a dent in the wall.

"We need a plan," Sam reasoned as he already packed every weapon they owned.

"The plan is simple Sam, we get there, we kill the sucker and get Emmy back."

Sam put a hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. "Dean you need to think straight alright! Running in there halfcocked isn't gonna help, you're playing right into his hands."

Dean shoved his brother away, his green eyes fierce. "Trying to be all reasonable isn't going to help either, Sam! We got more important matters at hand than coming up with a stupid plan."

"Dean – "

"For god sakes, he got Emmy, Sam!" Dean cried out. "He took her right under our noses and where were we? Huh? We promised to protect her and let nothing happen to her, well bang up job we did on that. Can you imagine how terrified she is right now? She was crying on the phone, Sam, Emmy never cries unless she's in panic and scared out of her mind. She said she was hurt, God Sam she didn't even try to lie about it. I don't even wanna know what that bastard did to her. I'll never forgive myself if anything happens to her, Sam. I just can't."

"Dean, we'll get her alright." Sam's face softened, his eyes tearing up.

Sam didn't think he'll ever forgive himself either. The guilt was heavy on his shoulders, wearing him down. No matter how hard they tried to keep her out of the family business, she always somehow got stuck right in the middle. And it wasn't her fight to fight, she had nothing to do with this. Gordon was after _him_ , he had no right to involve Emmy into this. It was a reckless and bold move from Gordon, and it was going to cost his life. Sam was going to make sure that Gordon won't live long enough to see another day.

"Let's go."

 **SPN**

With guns drawn, Sam and Dean slowly made their way into the factory where Gordon was keeping their sister hostage. The whole ceiling was leaking, droplets of water echoed against the walls. Their pace was steady, their eyes trained to take in their surroundings, ready to take on any threat.

"Emmy," Sam breathed, lowering his machete.

Dean turned towards his brother and followed his gaze. There, in the middle of the unit, was their little sister tied up to a chair. Her chin was against her chest, her hair obscuring her face. Dean picked up his speed and rushed over to her. He lifted up her face, brushing away the loose strands of hair.

"Emmy? C'mon baby, wake up." He lightly shook her, gently tapping her cheeks. "Sam, help me with the ropes."

Sam flicked open his pocket knife and cut through the bonds. His teeth clenched as he noticed her skin rubbed raw by the thick ropes. When he released the one around her chest and arms, her body suddenly fell forward. Dean caught her and pushed her back enough to get her to open her eyes. With one hand cupping the back of her neck, his thumb drifted to her pulse. He let out a breath of relief when he felt it, even if it was weak.

Sam rubbed her bare arms, trying to warm her up. He felt sick to his stomach when he saw the bruises littered on her skin, her right cheek wasn't any better. She had a split lip, skinned knees and the cut she had on her arm looked worse.

Dean muttered a string of curse words under his breath when he lifted her tank top, displaying the damage on her ribs and stomach. He hung his head, his body reeling from anger crawling under his skin. His hands tightened around the armrests and he tried to picture his fingers around Gordon's neck right now.

Dean straightened up to his full length and looked around the factory. "GORDON!" he growled. "Now's a good time to show your fugly face, you _bastard_!"

"Dean, what are you doing," Sam hissed. "Let's get Emmy out of here first."

"GORDON!" Dean had no time for this, he wanted to kill Gordon _now._

"Dean – "

" _What!?"_ he snapped.

"She's waking up." Sam cupped Emmy's face, mindful of the bruises around her neck and cheek. His thumbs gently stroked her temple and eyebrow. "C'mon baby, open those pretty eyes for us. There you go, good girl."

Emmy felt like death warmed over as she cracked her eyes open. Her vision was blurry but she instantly recognized that dimpled, soft smile.

"S'mmy?" her voice cracked.

The sight of her made his eyes well up again. "Yeah, it's me honey. We're here now."

"Emmy, look at me," Dean said. He lifted his hand to guide her head to face him but stopped when she flinched away from him. His heart sank deeper. "I'm not gonna hurt you, baby." He tried again and was glad she didn't shrink away from him. He cupped her quivering chin and held her gaze. "We're going to get you of here. But I need you to listen to me – you keep close to me and do as I say, okay?"

Emmy barely had the energy to nod.

"Alright," Dean glanced at Sam. "I'll take her, cover me."

Dean carefully lifted Emmy out of the chair, apologizing every time she winced or cried out in pain. He carried her bridal style, her arms loosely hanging off his shoulder. Sam had taken off his jacket and wrapped it around her to keep her warm.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Dean asked as he adjusted her in his hold.

Emmy was too tired to respond and leaned her head against his. Dean's nose dipped, finding its way to the top of her head. He took in her smell – vanilla mixed with her own scent of innocence and he closed his eyes to savor it all. She was here now, in his arms. He wasn't ever going to let her out of his reach again. He didn't care if he was being overbearing or if he was suffocating her, she'll have to learn to live with it dammit because he'll never allow this to happen again.

"I got you now, I got you," he mumbled against her forehead. He kissed the side of her face several times while he carefully made his way out of the factory. Dean threw a look behind his back. "Sam, stay close."

Sam was following closely when he suddenly heard a noise from the back. He lifted his machete, his senses on high alert when a mechanized door suddenly slid down in front of him, cutting him off from his siblings.

"SAM!" Dean turned around but it was too late. He banged on the door that separated them with his free hand. "Damn it, Sam!"

Sam pounded the door from the other side in frustration, then turned around walking away from it. "Dean, just go. Get Emmy outta here, I'll be fine," he reassured him.

"Sam, be careful!" Dean shouted.

"Dean, we have to go back," Emmy whispered through chapped lips. "You can't leave him in there by himself."

"I won't. I just need to get you somewhere safe first – "

"There's no time for that, Gordon will kill him!" she cried. "He told me how he was going to rip him apart. And after he was done with Sam, he'd kill you too, a-and then it'll be my turn – "

"Emmy," Dean cut her off, "Nothing's gonna happen to you, nothing's gonna happen to any of us. I'll make sure we all get outta here alive, I promise."

Emmy took a shaky breath. "Gordon's not the same anymore, he's changed now Dean."

Dean kissed her temple. "I know, baby," he mumbled against her skin, "I know."

He caught sight of something that looked like some tools he could use and was about to put Emmy down when she suddenly clung to him.

"No, no, no, please don't go, please don't leave me," she sobbed, clutching at the back of his jacket.

"Emmy, hey – _hey,_ " he cleared a worktable and gently put her down. "Listen to me, baby. Emmy," he gently cupped her cheeks, wiping away some tears. "I'm not going anywhere, I'll stay right here. I'm just gonna try to break this door down so I can get to Sammy."

Emmy lifted her own hands to grasp his, refusing to let go. "If you go through that door you're not coming back again."

"Of course I'm coming back," he crooned as he ran his hands through her hair.

She shook her head, crying. "You don't get it, Gordon told me what he'll do to you. He said – "

"You know, I don't care what Gordon told you 'cause he's wrong," he interjected. "If anything, he'll be the one wishing he'd never messed with us in the first place." Dean eyed his sister and his heart ached when she didn't seem convinced. "C'mere," he wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her closely but not too close as he still was mindful of her bruises.

Emmy stiffened when she heard a creaking sound on the other side of the door. "He's back, Gordon's back," she whimpered. She frantically pushed her brother away. "Dean, you gotta go get Sammy. Dean you have to help him, you have to stop G-Gordon before he – "

"Emmy!" Dean didn't mean to snap at her but he needed her to calm down. "I got this, sweetheart. I got this."

 **SPN**

Sam's eyes darted around the place when the lights suddenly went out. He froze, bringing up his machete. He held out his other arm, creeping around while taking a guarded stance.

"Gordon! You got me where you want me. You might as well come out and fight!"

"I'm right here, Sam."

Sam swung his weapon but it simply swished through the air, not making any contact.

Gordon chuckled in the dark. "What's the matter, Sammy?" 

"So, this is really the way you want to do it, huh?" Sam wrung his hands around the handle, getting ready for one hell of a fight.

"Damn right I do."

Sam breathed heavily as he still felt his way around the room bathed in darkness.

"You have no idea what I faced to get here," Gordon started saying. "I lost everything. My life. But it's worth it, 'cause I'm finally gonna kill the most dangerous thing I ever hunted. You're not human, Sam."

"Look who's talking," Sam snorted.

"You're right. I'm a bloodthirsty killer."

Sam whirled around, the voice suddenly closer than before. His eyes were narrowed as they scanned the place. "Don't talk about it like you don't have a choice."

"I don't."

"Yes you do, Gordon," Sam countered.

"I got to hand it to you, Sam. You got a lot of people fooled. But see, I know the truth. I know what it's like. We're the same now, you and me. I know how it is walking around with something evil inside you. It's just too bad you won't do the right thing and kill yourself."

Unbeknownst to him, Sam had been backing into a corner. Gordon smirked, he had him right where he wanted. He attacked, sending them both flying through the wall.

 **SPN**

Dean stopped hacking at the wall when he heard the collision. He threw away the hammer and looked around for a faster way to get to his brother. Time was running out and he had to think fast.

"Emmy, stay here," he said.

Emmy's big blue eyes looked lost, her lips trembling.

He picked up her hands, kissing her knuckles. "I'll come back, I swear I'll come back for you."

 **SPN**

Sam groaned when Gordon knocked the machete out of his hand. He scrambled to his feet and picked it up again, he was about to swing his arm when Gordon flung him across the room. Sam landed on his back, he winced at the impact. Gordon looked down at him with a vile sneer.

Dean came up from behind and pointed the Colt at Gordon's head. His finger itched to pull the trigger and see his brains paint the walls but Dean wanted him to suffer, he wanted him to _feel_ his wrath. On second thought, Dean should've gone ahead and shot him instead of wasting time, but it was too late.

Gordon was too fast and grabbed the gun out of Dean's hand, sliding it across the room before pinning him against the wall. He flashed his fangs, his sharp teeth merely inches away from Dean's neck. Dean's hands were strangling Gordon's neck but his strength was nothing compared to the vampire's.

"NO!" Emmy suddenly yelled.

Sam got to his feet and swayed, holding the wall before losing his balance. "Emmy, get outta here!"

Gordon slammed Dean's head against the wall, leaving a crack, before dropping him.

"Stay away from her," Dean groaned, blinking hard as he wiped away the blood trickling down the side of his face.

"Let my brothers go!" Emmy grounded out.

"Stay out of this, sweetcheeks," Gordon smiled, staring at the little girl like she was a nuisance. "This is between me and your brothers, I got something else planned for you after this."

Emmy picked up the machete Sam previously had dropped. Dean's face fell when he realized what she was about to do.

Sam swore under his breath. "Emmy, drop the knife!"

The brothers watched in horror as their little sister tucked her sleeve up before slicing through her arm, right next her old cut.

Gordon licked his lips, his nostrils flaring. "Don't tempt me little girl. I can't promise I'll be able to stop once I sink my teeth into you."

"Don't knock it, till you've tried it," she taunted, pressing at the cut so more blood trailed down her arm.

Gordon breathed hard, making an inhuman sound at the back of his throat. His eyes zoned in on her until all he could see was the red substance drawing him to it.

Emmy knew it was a reckless move but at least she was stalling, and it bought her brothers enough time to attack.

Gordon didn't even get the chance to take a step forward when Sam suddenly charged at him, clocking him across the back of the neck. Gordon retaliated by slamming him into a another work table. Sam managed to grab a piece of cloth and an end of razor wire in each hand.

Dean picked himself up and walked straight to his sister. He took off his flannel shirt and hastily wrapped it around her bloody arm.

"Dean – " she started to say. She wanted to explain herself, knowing that he ordered her to stay away and she did the exact opposite. The way he bit the inside of his cheeks was a clear sign that he wasn't exactly happy with her at the moment.

"Not right now, Emmy," he gritted out. He lifted her up in his arms just as Sam pinned down Gordon.

Emmy watched as her brother wrapped the razor wire around Gordon's neck, pulling with all his might. Overwhelmed by a mix of feelings – disgust, awe, panic but mostly shock, Emmy felt sick at the image of Sam pulling and pulling as he slowly cut through Gordon's throat.

"Don't look," Dean mumbled, turning her face into the crook of his neck.

 **SPN**

Dean's eyes kept drifting back to his sister's face as he cleaned her up. Her expression was blank, she wasn't showing any emotion and it was worrying him to no end. She hadn't said a word since they got back to the motel. It was almost three in the morning now and everyone was exhausted but Dean wouldn't let anyone call it a day until he had taken care of his sister.

He gently rubbed the blood from her cheeks with a damp washcloth. He turned her face from side to side as he made sure there was no blood left. His hand shook as he could make out a handprint on her cheek. He gently fingered her swollen lip and felt heartbroken when she didn't even wince. Dean had to momentarily face away from her to keep his temper in check.

He stood up from crouching next to the bed and went to wring the washcloth in the sink. He felt sick when the water was colored pink. Taking a deep breath, he collected himself before getting back to her. He helped her out of her t-shirt, his jaw strained at the marks blemishing her skin. He kept talking inside his head, trying to lead himself through the steps. It took everything in him not to smash his fist into the wall.

"Does this hurt?" he asked softly, lightly prodding at her ribs. He had a hard time keeping his voice composed and the task only became more difficult when she didn't respond. "Emmy?"

She looked up at him, but her eyes were empty.

Dean swallowed down the lump in his throat. He continued rubbing some cream that should help with the bruising. He found a clean tank top and helped her put it back on. He unwrapped the makeshift gauze around her arm and winced when he examined the cut. She went a bit overboard with the knife but luckily it wasn't deep enough so there was no stitches needed. However, he didn't doubt it would leave a scar behind.

Gordon was a lucky bastard he was dead already. If it weren't for Sam, Dean would've tied him up somewhere and use him daily as a punching bag. He got off too easy, way too easy.

Sam entered the hotel room with a plastic bag. "I got everything," he said as he put a box of painkillers and other necessities onto the table. "How's she doing?"

"I don't know, she won't talk." Dean rummaged through the bag and took out the stuff he needed to dress the cut on her arm.

Sam sat down next to his sister. "Hey honey, how're you holding up?" he asked tenderly while tucking some hair behind her ears.

Dean joined them and crouched down in front of her. He lifted her arm up a bit to start cleaning the cut. "This is gonna sting a bit."

Emmy kept maintaining an impassive position, not reacting to anything.

Sam kissed the top of her head. She'll talk eventually – when she gets over the initial trauma, she'll tell them everything that happened.

"Sonuvabitch," Dean muttered as he dropped the gauze. He picked it up again but struggled to wrap it neatly around the cut.

"You okay?" Sam asked worriedly, eying his brother's trembling hands.

"No I'm not okay, Sam!" he snapped. "Look at her. No, seriously, _look at her!_ "

"Just give her some time, Dean." Sam wrapped his arm around Emmy's frail shoulders, gently rubbing his thumb along her arm. "She's a lot stronger than you give her credit for."

Dean ran a hand down his face, his jaw clenched. "You should've let me have a go at him."

"It doesn't matter now, he's dead."

Dean kicked at a chair, knocking it over. He was pissed off.

"Why don't you go outside for a bit, cool off a bit," Sam suggested carefully.

Dean shook his head. "She needs me, I can't leave her alone again."

"She won't be alone," he said pointedly. "And you're no use to her if you're on the brink of blowing up. Go get some fresh air, I'll finish her up."

Sam was right, Dean was aware of that. He picked up his jacket and walked over to his sister. He ran his hand down the back of her head and pressed a lingering kiss on her forehead. "I'll be right back." The promise was more to himself than anyone else.

Sam breathed out when the door closed. He turned to his sister and gently lifted her arm. The cut wasn't bleeding anymore which was a good thing. He opened his mouth several times but every time gr clamped his lips shut, rethinking his words.

"Emmy, what happened?" Curiosity got the best of him. He needed to know where she got that first cut from.

He glanced at her and she looked back at him which confirmed the fact that she had heard him. But when she looked away again, his shoulders dropped in dismay. Not pushing her, Sam continued working on dressing the wound when he suddenly heard her say something.

"What?" he inched closer, brushing away her bangs from where they had fallen back in front of her eyes. "What did you say, honey?"

"I tried," she whispered.

Sam frowned. "What did you try, Emmy?"

She looked down at her lap, her eyes watering. "I tried to save Dean."

"Honey, what are you talking about?"

She licked her split lip. "W-we tried to s-summon an angel."

Sam was beyond confused. "Who's _we_?"

Emmy was too scared to meet his gaze. "… Ruby and I."

Sam didn't speak at first, he was at a loss for words. So many questions formed inside his mind all at once and he rubbed his forehead where he could already feel a headache coming up.

"When, when did this happen?"

"Yesterday," she mumbled.

The one time he and his brother decide to leave their sister all by herself, and she goes around calling a demon to summon an angel?

"Where did you even get this idea from?"

"Ruby. She suggested it, back at Bobby's."

"At Bobby's?" Sam had a hard time catching up. "Bobby never told us about that."

"That's because he doesn't know about it," she explained, still keeping her eyes downcast. "She stopped by and fixed the Colt."

Why didn't he know about any of this? Sam didn't like the thought of being left out, didn't like when stuff like this happened behind his back.

"So you took her word for it and just trusted her? Emmy, do you know how dangerous that is."

She shrugged. "She helped us before … I just thought she could help us again."

Sam exhaled loudly, running a hand through his hair. "Why summon an angel though?"

"Because, because I thought they'd listen to me," her voice broke. "But it doesn't matter now. I was wrong … angels aren't as helpful as I thought they were." She wiped away a tear with a sniff. "They didn't answer, not a single one did." _Not even Gabriel._

Emmy finally looked up at her brother. Unlike before, her eyes now held a myriad of emotions. "I tried, Sammy. I tried to save Dean and I failed."

"Emmy, no, don't say that." Sam hugged her, rubbing her back.

"Dean's gonna die now," she cried into his shoulder.

"He's not gonna die, Emmy. I won't allow it." He stroked her hair. "But you need to promise me, if you ever plan to do something like this again, I need you to tell me. I won't say anything to Dean, but you need to let me know."

"I'm sorry. I just knew you'd never be okay with it."

"It's not that, honey." Sam pulled back and caught her gaze. "Summoning angels, summoning _anything_ can be risky. And I know Ruby promised to help us but she's still a demon – we can't take her at her word, not until I've figured out her motives."

Emmy leaned against his chest. She closed her eyes, feeling tired. She welcomed Sam's huge arms coming up around her, embracing her into a safe cocoon.

"Sammy?"

"Hmm?"

"Gordon said you were a monster, just like him." She didn't ask the question out loud, leaving it up to him to take it or not.

Sam gulped. Was he monster? The fact that he couldn't come up with a clear answer gave away his doubt. A doubt he had for a long time now. Azazel's words were trapped inside his brain, the way the demon smirked at the revelation that Sam was one of his _children_. He was told to be destined to do great things, evil things. Sam didn't want to think about that – the demon blood running through his veins, the visions he used to have, the way he brutally murdered Gordon … Sam didn't even know who he was anymore.

In the end, he decided not to react to the unspoken question. He didn't think any of them could handle the answer.

 **A/N** : **I really struggled a lot with these two chapters. I still feel like something is missing, and there's a few parts that I'm not happy about. Please, don't forget to leave some feedback, I really need it.**

 **Thanks again for the continued support, you guys don't realize how much it means to me to have you read my stories.**

 **XXX**


	9. A Very Supernatural Christmas

**Warning: you'll need tissues. Lots of them.**

 **Please enjoy.**

Sam adjusted his tie as he looked up at the house, their latest crime scene. There was no way a man could physically fit through that narrow chimney. These cases were getting weirder and weirder by the day.

"Um, my daughter and I were in our beds. Mike was downstairs decorating the tree. I heard a thump on the roof and then I heard Mike scream," the woman told with a tremble in her voice, clearly shaken up and upset. "And now I'm talking to the FBI."

"And you didn't see any of it?" Dean questioned her.

She sniffed. "No, he was … he was just gone."

Dean scanned the house for any possible entries. "The doors were locked? There was no forced entry?"

"That's right."

"Does anybody else have a key?" he asked next.

"My parents," she answered. "But they live in Florida."

So that was highly unlikely.

Sam cleared his throat. "Thanks for letting me have a look around, Mrs. Walsh. I think we, uh, got just about everything we need. We're all set."

"We'll be in touch," Dean shot her a polite smile.

"Agents," she called out before they could leave. "The police said my husband might have been kidnapped."

Dean exchanged a quick look with his brother. "Could be."

Mrs. Walsh hugged herself. "Then why haven't the kidnappers called? O-or – or demanded a ransom? It's three days till Christmas. What am I supposed to tell our daughter?"

Sam's eyes softened, he hated feeling helpless. "We're very sorry."

The Winchester brothers walked down the front steps while Mrs. Walsh went back inside.

Dean tucked his hands in his pockets. "Find anything?"

"Stocking, mistletoe and this." Sam handed him a small object.

Dean cocked an eyebrow as he examined it. "A tooth? Where was this?"

"In the chimney."

"Chimney? No way a man fits up a chimney. It's too narrow."

"No way he fits up in one piece," Sam reasoned.

Dean pocketed the tooth. "Alright, so, if dad went up the chimney—"

"We need to find out what dragged him up there."

 **SPN**

Back at the motel, Sam had pinned some pictures of demons up on the wall. Emmy eyed them one by one – examining their claws, sharp teeth, horns, and the flames surrounding them. She could hear Pastor Jim's voice in the back of her head, telling her about hellfire and demons. Soon her brother will be trapped in hell with these creatures, tormenting him, tearing him into pieces only to put him back together again to repeat the same torture ...

"Ow," she winced.

"Sorry," Sam mumbled as he peeled the bandage from her arm. He studied the cut closely, relieved that it was healing nicely. He ripped some gauze with his teeth, dressing up the wound once again. "Alright, let's check those ribs." He started for the hem of her sweater but she was quick to pull away.

"It's fine," she insisted, her fists holding down her sweater.

"Emmy, honey, I just need to see if – "

"It's been three weeks now, Sammy, there's nothing to see." Emmy turned away and took a seat on the only couch in the room. She picked up a random book and started 'reading' it.

Sam watched her for a full minute until he realized she wasn't going to give him any attention. She was closed off before but now he felt like there wasn't even a crack he could squeeze into. The walls she had built around her were solid and he had a hard time getting through to her. He recognized the behavior though, it was a defensive mechanism, a way to protect herself. And it didn't take rocket science to realize where that sudden reaction came from. He exhaled roughly before putting away the first aid kit. He got back behind his computer and continued his research about their current case.

Dean chose that moment to grace them with his presence. He carried a brown paper bag and put it down on the coffee table.

"So, was I right? Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?" he asked, throwing his jacket on one of the beds.

"Yep," Sam nodded. "It's, uh, it's actually Dick Van Dyke."

"Who?"

"Mary Poppins?"

"Who's that?"

Sam eyed his brother strangely. "Oh come on— never mind."

Dean shrugged it off and dropped himself on the couch next to Emmy. She put her feet up, hugging her knees against her chest while slightly turning away from him. She had hoped he didn't notice, but Dean noticed everything lately, especially when it came to his baby sister. He ignored the pang in his heart and rested his feet on the coffee table.

"Well, it turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month."

"Oh yeah?" Sam looked up from his computer screen, eyebrows bunched up in interest. "The other guy get dragged up the chimney, too?"

"Don't know. Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof." Dean stretched his arm out on the back of the couch, his fingers grazing Emmy's hair. He playfully tugged at her braid but she jerked away mumbling something that sounded like _cut it out._

Dean met Sam's eyes and he knew in that split second there were both thinking the same. Dean blinked away the thought, getting back to the subject. "So, what the hell do you think we're dealing with?"

Sam turned in his chair to address him better. "Actually, I have an idea."

"Yeah?"

"Uh, it's gonna sound crazy."

Dean's lips twitched in mild amusement. "What could you possibly say that sounds crazy to me?"

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. "Um… evil Santa."

He paused a few seconds before nodding. "Yeah, that's crazy."

"I mean, I'm just saying that there's some version of the anti-Claus in every culture." Sam turned his laptop to show some of the pictures he had found. "You got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter. Whatever you want to call it, there's all sorts of lore."

"Saying what?" The images had Dean's full attention now.

"Saying back in the day, Santa's brother went rogue and now he shows up around Christmas time, but instead of bringing presents, he punishes the wicked."

Dean pulled a face. "By hauling their ass up chimneys?"

"For starters, yeah."

"So, this is your theory, huh? Santa's shady brother?"

"Well, ah – I'm just saying, that's what the lore says." Even Sam had to admit that it all sounded pretty weird.

"Santa doesn't have a brother." Dean glanced at Emmy before facing his brother, silently mouthing, "There is no Santa."

Emmy snorted, never taking away her gaze from her book. Did he seriously think she still believed in Santa? "I'm eleven now Dean, not two."

"Yeah, I know. You keep reminding me," he rolled his eyes, barely masking the tinge of sorrow lacing his voice.

Sam sighed, shutting his laptop. "Yeah, you know what, I could be wrong. I gotta be wrong."

"Maybe, maybe not." Dean rose to his feet. "I did a little digging. Turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched."

"What, where?" Sam questioned, already jumping into action.

"Hey!" Emmy suddenly protested when her book got snatched out of her hands.

"You're coming with us," Dean said, his voice curt and final. He easily pulled her out of the couch despite her struggles. "You've been cooped up inside for way too long."

"Dean! Get off!" she complained, all the while fighting him as she got dragged to the door.

"It's not up for discussion."

"At least let me put my shoes on first!"

"Sam, get her shoes and coat!" Dean effortlessly picked her up, walking to where he had parked the Impala.

"I really hate you right now," she grumbled.

"Yeah, you keep me reminding me of that, too."

 **SPN**

Emmy hugged herself against the cold, arms crossed over her chest with a scowl resting perfectly on her freckled face. She watched as some little kids sat on Santa's lap and it took everything in her not to roll her eyes at the sight. A tiny little part was resentful though, she wished she could be like these children again – innocent, naïve, unaware of the true dangers lurking in the dark. She'd do anything to trade her life with theirs right now. At least they didn't have to worry about their brother going to hell in a few months.

"It does kind of lend credence to the theory, don't it?" Dean said, watching some people wearing Christmas costumes. Christmas music was playing in the background.

"Yeah, but anti-Claus? Couldn't be."

"It's a Christmas miracle," Dean reasoned lamely. "Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year."

Sam frowned. "Have one what?"

"A Christmas." Dean nudged Emmy, trying to lift up her spirits. "Could be fun, huh cutie pie?"

"No, thanks," she muttered, not even bothering to look up at him.

"Oh come one, we'll get a tree, a little Boston market, just like old times."

Emmy shook her head.

"What?"

"Dean," Sam started, hating to bust his brother's bubble. "Those weren't exactly Hallmark memories for us, you know."

"What are you talking about?" Dean questioned. "We had some great Christmases."

"Without dad, you mean," Emmy grumbled.

"Whose childhood are you talking about?" Sam couldn't remember ever having a traditional Christmas ever since his mother passed away. After that, their father had other priorities. Poor Emmy never fully experienced Christmas like they did.

"Oh, come on, guys. I mean sure, our version of celebrating Christmas probably sucked, but at least we had fun. Right?"

"How do you expect us to have _fun_ when you're dying in a few months?" Emmy shot back, unable to contain her frustration at his way of trying to sugarcoat everything. "Who gives a flying crap about Christmas when you're not even going to be around for the next one!"

Dean sighed. "Emmy – "

"Save it," she cut him off, clearly sick of hearing his stupid excuses.

Dean looked down at her, wondering when in the world things started getting this messed up. Memories of his little sister playing with his amulet, mispronouncing words, giggling at his bedhair - they all seemed so far away. He couldn't even remember the last time she had genuinely smiled at him and it hurt to think that the blame was all on him. He just hoped she'd understand one day, forgive him for the fact that he made a sacrifice for her sake.

Dean scratched at his jaw, cutting his train of thoughts. "What are we looking for, again?"

Sam didn't fail to notice the sudden tension hanging around in the air. Deciding not to dwell on it, he looked around. "Lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets."

"Great," Dean huffed, his breath fogging in the air. "So we're looking for a pimp Santa. Why the sweets?"

"Think about it, Dean. If you smell like candy, the kids will come closer, you know?"

"That's creepy," Dean cringed causing Sam to chuckle. "How does this thing know who's been naughty and who's been nice?"

"I don't know."

"Hey little girl!" The man dressed in a Santa Claus costume beckoned Emmy over. He patted his lap. "Come sit on Santa's knee."

Emmy visibly took a step back, bumping into Sam's chest.

"You been a good girl this year? Cause Santa's got a special gift for you," he cackled creepily.

Sam protectively wrapped his arms around his sister from behind. This dude sent shivers running up and down his spine.

Dean's lips were pulled into a tight smile. "She's good." He was one second away from bashing this perv's face in, but when he took a closer look, he thought that maybe he was the one they were looking for.

A young girl who looked to be in her late teens appeared in front of them, dressed as an elf. "Welcome to Santa's court. Can I escort your child to Santa?"

"They're not gay," Emmy felt the need to point out the little fact.

The girl looked down at her, slightly taken aback. "Oh … okay?"

Dean smirked, licking his bottom lip. "Uh, actually my brother here," he smacked Sam's shoulder, " it's been a lifelong dream of his."

She looked up at the middle Winchester with pure aversion. "Uh, sorry. No kids over… 12."

"No, he's just kidding. We only came here to watch," Sam chuckled nervously until he realized his choice of words.

She backed off in disgust. "Eww."

"I-I didn't mean that we came here to w-watch – you – " Sam's attempt at explaining himself fell on deaf ears. "Thanks a lot, Dean. Thanks for that."

"This sucks. I'm gonna wait in the car." Emmy shrugged out of Sam's arms and started walking off.

"Santa senses you have some things to get off your chest," fake Santa called after her. "It's not too late to whisper it in my ear."

"Oh shut up! You're not Santa, Santa doesn't even exist!" she shouted, aggravated.

A mother who was in hearing distance gasped, covering her son's ears.

Emmy rolled her eyes, stomping off.

Dean couldn't help but grin proudly. "That's my girl."

Fake Santa left his chair, walking off with a bad limp.

Dean elbowed his brother. "You seeing this?"

"A lot of people walk with limps, right?" Sam wasn't convinced just yet.

The gruff man passed them but not before saying, "You boys need to learn that girl some manners."

Sam nodded once. "I'm sorry about that."

Dean watched as he left. "Tell me you didn't smell that. That was candy, man."

Sam looked at Santa again, biting the inside of his cheek. "We're willing to take that chance?"

 **SPN**

 _ **Flashback: Sioux Falls, South Dakota - 1999**_

 _ **Emmy: 4 y/o – Dean: 22 y/o – Sam: 18 y/o**_

 _Sam kept turning the letter between his fingers, the paper touching his skin reminded him of the fact that this was all real – very real. He took another look at it, rereading it for what felt like the millionth time. He let out a long breath, his heart heavy in his chest. He was sitting on the front porch of Bobby's house, gazing at the gate, dreading the sound of the Impala's rumble. He had no idea how to explain this to his father – Dean would support him, he'd have his brother's back no matter what. Emmy; sweet, sweet Emmy was probably still too young to understand but she'd get to it one day. But John, John was a whole different story._

 _The front door opened with a loud creak. Bobby shivered when a cold wind hit him from the side, ruffling his hair up._

" _Boy, come back inside before you freeze yourself to death."_

 _Sam tucked the letter inside his jacket before turning around to face his surrogate uncle. "Did you call dad?"_

" _They torched the sucker. They're wrapping it up now, so hopefully he'll be here tonight."_

 _Sam nodded once. He stood up and followed Bobby inside. He hadn't realized how numb his feet and hands had become until the warmth embraced him. He shrugged off his coat and boots, leaving them near the fireplace to warm up._

" _Where's everyone?"_

 _Bobby tilted his head to the stairs. "Your brother is giving Emmy a bath. You mind telling them to go easy on the whole mermaid thing. My floorboard's still leaking from last time they played the stupid game."_

 _Sam chuckled. "Yeah, sure."_

 _Taking the steps two at a time, Sam felt a small smile tug at his lips when he heard giggles echoing against the walls of the hallway. He quietly pushed the door open with his foot and leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom. Sam had to bite his lip not to burst into laughter at the sight in front of him._

 _Emmy was surround by bubbles – way too many bubbles which only led him to believe that Dean had once again let her decide the right quantity of soap, which was always too much. Her wet hair was all over the place and Sam supposedly thought that it was meant to look like Ariel's hairstyle. It looked almost the same, only it was going to be a bitch to comb through those knots._

 _Dean was shirtless, soaked from head to toe. That's what happens when a certain little four year old thinks a bath is like a pool but smaller. Oh Bobby was definitely going to throw a fit. Dean's hair and face were hidden underneath a mass of soapy bubbles. He was animatedly acting out a scene from The Little Mermaid which Emmy of course found hilarious._

" _Have you lost your senses completely!?" he growled angrily making Emmy burst into another fit of giggles. Dean grabbed a mop and used it at his trident. "He's human, you're a mermaid!"_

 _Emmy stopped mid-laughter, gasping dramatically. "Your beard fell off!"_

" _Oh." Dean broke out of character and leaned closer to her so she could fix it._

 _Emmy cupped her hands and gathered a lot of bubbles. Her tiny tongue poked out as she carefully lathered his cheeks and chin with the soap. She poked around the bubbles, trying to make something out of the sloppy mess. She examined her work and grinned, happy with the result._

" _Good?" Dean asked, judging by the dimples in her cheeks, it was great. "Alright, where were we?"_

" _You were telling Princess Ariel she was a mermaid," Sam spoke up, making his presence known._

" _Sammy!" Emmy squealed._

 _He winced, rubbing his ears. "Emmy, we talked about this."_

" _Oh right, I forgetted," she whispered._

" _I forgot," he corrected her, playfully tapping her button nose. He eyed his brother, taking in his attire or lack there off. "Who're you supposed to be today?"_

" _Can't you see," Dean wiggled around the mop as if that should solve the riddle._

" _He's King Tiriton!" Emmy exclaimed excitedly._

" _King Triton," Sam corrected her once again. He couldn't help it, it was stronger than him. "What do you need the mop for."_

 _Dean looked offended. "Dude, that's my trident."_

" _Oh yeah?" Sam pointed at his face. "And what's all … that?"_

" _My beard, duh."_

" _You look like a failed Santa."_

" _Yeah, well you look like a failed Sasquatch."_

" _How old are you again?"_

" _Shut up," Dean deadpanned._

 _Emmy suddenly stood up, arms outstretched. "And now, here comes the storm!"_

 _Sam's eyes widened. "NO – "_

 _But it was too late._

 _He blinked the water out of his eyes, spitting out the soapy taste in his mouth. Dean was grinning like a kid, high fiving Emmy, complementing her on her bomb style._

" _You kids better clean up all that mess you made up there!"_ __ _Bobby shouted from downstairs._

" _Don't worry about it, Bobby!" Dean laughed as he threw his brother a towel._

" _Sorry, uncle Bobby!" Emmy giggled._

 _When Sam finished drying himself off, he patted the edge of the bathtub. "C'mon, Emmy, bath time is over."_

" _Noooo," she wined._

" _Yeeees," Dean mocked._

 _She pouted. "But I wanna play some more."_

 _He tucked her lip back in. "Hey, do wanna turn into an old lady?"_

" _What?" she squeaked out in a small voice._

 _Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean – "_

 _Dean gave him a look that instantly shut him up. He turned to his sister and picked up her tiny hand. "If you stay too long in the water, you'll become old, like Snow White's evil, witchy stepmom. Look, the wrinkles are already starting."_

 _The four year old looked down at the pads of her fingers. She gazed up at her brothers with big teary eyes and her bottom lip trembling. "I don't wanna be old," she cried._

 _Sam punched his brother in the arm. "Good job, now you made her cry."_

" _I wanna get out!" she sobbed._

" _At least it's working," Dean shrugged, feeling mildly guilty for using her biggest fear against her. But he was going to make it up to her. He grabbed a clean towel and wrapped it around her before picking her up. "Alright, it's okay now, sweetheart. I promise you're not gonna turn into an old woman, until many many years later."_

 _Sam reached into the tub and let the water drain. He looked up at his brother. "You shouldn't have said that."_

 _Emmy cried harder, pushing her face into the crook of his neck. "I-I d-don't wanna be o-old."_

" _Okay, whatever you want," he shushed her, gently bouncing her around in his arms. "You'll never become old. You'll always be young and really pretty just like a princess."_

 _She picked up her head, sniffing. "A princess?"_

" _You like the sound of that?" Dean was glad the waterworks stopped. "A princess living in a big castle and beautiful dresses. And one day, you'll become a queen – "_

" _I don't wanna be queen, queens are mean."_

 _He nodded. "Okay, no queen, just a princess. Whatever you want, baby. Can I be your prince, then?"_

 _She seemed to think about it but she eventually nodded. "Only if you braid my hair every day."_

 _He chuckled. "Deal. Now can I have a kiss from the princess?"_

 _She smiled, grabbed his face and pecked his lips. Dean seemed to have brought back her cheery mood until she suddenly remembered something._

 _Her big blue eyes twinkled with unshed tears again. "What if the wrinkles won't go away?"_

 _Dean jostled her in his arms, trying to cheer her up. "It'll go away, sweetheart. I promise."_

 _She looked down at her hands, not looking convinced._

 _Sam got up from mopping the floor and walked towards his siblings. "Hey honey, wanna see a magic trick?"_

 _She looked up at him, nodding eagerly._

 _He grabbed her little, pudgy hands and made a show of kissing each fingertip. "There you go. In an hour, all the wrinkles will be vanished."_

 _Her eyes widened in fascination. "Really?"_

 _Sam nodded. "Really."_

 _She grinned from chubby cheek to chubby cheek. "Thanks, Sammy!" She grabbed his shirt and pulled him close, thanking him with a sloppy kiss. "You can be my prince, too."_

" _Hey, I thought I was your prince," Dean felt rejected._

" _Suck it up, buttercup," Sam wiggled his eyebrows in victory._

 _ **End flashback.**_

 **SPN**

Emmy snapped out of her daydreaming. She rubbed her eyes with a yawn before stretching out in the backseat of the Impala. She didn't understand why her mind suddenly wandered off to a memory that happened years ago. It was 1999, the last time her family celebrated Christmas as a real family – maybe the events of today triggered it. It wasn't usual for her to remember things from when she was little, but that day she'll never forget. It was the day that her life changed drastically. Not wanting to dwell on it any longer, she sat up, yawning once again.

"What time is it?" she asked groggily.

"Same as the last time you asked." Sam turned in his seat to face her, "Wanna sit in the front?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm good."

Sam would be lying if he said he didn't expect that answer from her.

Dean took the thermos and tried to pour coffee into his cup, but came up empty instead. "Wonderful."

Emmy stared out of the window when she suddenly spotted Santa, still in his red cap, but in a green tank top, looking outside.

"What's he doing?" she wondered out loud.

Her brothers followed her gaze, catching the man closing his curtains.

Dean snorted. "What's up with Saint Nicotine?"

" _Oh my god!"_ a woman suddenly cried out. There was no mistaking that the sound came from Santa's house.

"Emmy – " Dean started to say.

"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill," she waved him off.

Sam and Dean jumped out of the car and ran towards the house with their guns drawn. Dean took a look inside the window of the front door. He grabbed the knob and turned it, finding it unlocked. They both walked in silently, finding Santa sitting on the couch, holding a giant bong and a bottle of whisky.

Instantly realizing their mistake, both brothers were quick to hide their guns.

Santa nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized he wasn't alone. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Dean looked around sheepishly, realizing the man was only watching TV, completely harmless. It also didn't take him long to find the source of the woman screaming earlier.

The half-naked woman moaned on the screen. " _Mistle my toe. Roast my chestnut. Egg my nog_."

"Ah, w-we, uh," Sam stuttered.

" _Jingle my bells?"_

"S-silent night… Holy…" Dean cleared his throat, nudging his brother to sing along. "…night. All is well…"

Santa sat upright, enjoying the show. " … All is dry," he sang along merrily.

Sam grabbed his brother by the shoulder, dragging him out of the house.

 **SPN**

So, it turned out that creepy Santa wasn't behind those murders after all. Whoever it was, it was still on the loose because next morning, the Winchester brothers woke up to another kidnapping.

Dean adjusted his tie as he interviewed the wife of the missing victim. "So, that's how your son described the attack? _Santa took daddy up the chimney_?"

"That's what he says, yes," she nodded, clearly still shaken up about everything.

"And where were you?"

"I was asleep and all of a sudden …" her voice breaks, tears stinging her eyes, " … I was being dragged out of bed, screaming."

"Did you see the attacker?" Sam questioned.

She shook her head, sniffing. "It was dark, and he hit me. He knocked me out."

Dean nodded. "I'm sorry. I know this is hard."

"Yeah… um, Mrs. Caldwell, where, where did you get that wreath above the fireplace?"

Dean looked at his brother, puzzled. What the hell has this got to do with anything?

Mrs. Caldwell looked confused. "Excuse me?"

Dean looked at Sam, as if waiting for an answer too.

Sam flashed an uneasy and quite embarrassed smile. "Just curious, you know."

Once out of the house, Dean couldn't help but ask. "Wreaths, huh? Sure you didn't want to ask her about her shoes? I saw some nice handbags in the foyer."

"We've seen that wreath before, Dean."

"Where?"

"The Walshes'. Yesterday."

Dean, feeling a little stupid for not noticing before, scoffed. "I know. I was just testing you."

 **SPN**

Dean was only half listening to Sam talking to Bobby on the phone. He was too busy focusing on something else, well _someone else._ Emmy was sitting on the windowsill, she had her knees up, a sketchbook resting in her lap. Grabbing his beer, he made his way over to her.

"Watcha drawing?" He had barely asked the whole question when she already slammed the book shut.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" he cocked an eyebrow. "Didn't look like nothing."

"Just stuff," she shrugged.

Dean leaned against the windowsill, near her feet. He took a sip from his cold beer. "So, about the whole Christmas thing. Since when did you become the girl that hates Christmas so much?"

Emmy bit the inside of her cheek as she found herself looking out the window to the nearly empty parking lot.

"I mean, I admit it. You know, we had a few bumpy holidays when we – "

"Bumpy?" she snorted humorless.

Dean put a hand on her small knee, squeezing it gently. "That was then. We'll do it right this year."

"We haven't done it _right_ since I was like four."

Dean sighed. "I know."

"You can't make it right, Dean," she said softly, still gazing out of the window. "Christmas should be celebrated with your family. And I don't wanna celebrate anything if we're not whole."

"We can try …"

"Look, Dean." Her blue eyes locked with his. "If you want to have Christmas, knock yourself out. Just don't involve me."

"Oh yeah, that' be great. Me and myself making cranberry molds," he chuckled dryly.

"Or you know, you could always find a way out of your stupid deal," She slid off the windowsill, "and maybe I'll change my mind."

Dean's mouth suddenly felt dry even though he had just taken a pull from his beer. He swallowed hard, watching as his sister walked over to Sam. This wasn't her being sad at the thought of losing him, this was anger. She was mad at him and Dean knew she had every right to.

Emmy stretched out her hand to Sam as if to say she wanted to talk to Bobby.

"Yeah, all right. Well, keep looking, would you? Thanks, Bobby," Sam said. "Uhm hold on, Emmy wants to speak to you. Yeah, okay. Bye." Sam handed the phone to his sister, his brow slightly furrowed when she got into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. He shrugged it off and faced his brother. "Well… we're not dealing with the anti-Claus."

"What did Bobby say?"

"Uh, that we're morons," he snorted, amused. "He also said that it was probably meadowsweet in those wreaths."

"Wow! Amazing." The sarcasm was dripping from Dean's voice. "What the hell is meadowsweet?"

"It's pretty rare and it's probably the most powerful plant in pagan lore."

Dean's attention perked up at the sound of that. "Pagan lore?"

Sam was already on his laptop, researching. "Yeah. See, they used meadowsweet for human sacrifice. It was kind of like a… Chum for their gods. Gods were drawn to it and they'd stop by and snack on whatever was the nearest human."

Dean emptied his beer. "Why would somebody be using that for Christmas wreaths?"

"It's not as crazy as it sounds, Dean," Sam told him. "I mean, pretty much every Christmas tradition is pagan."

"Christmas is Jesus's birthday."

"No, Jesus's birthday was probably in the fall. It was actually the winter solstice festival that was co-opted by the Church and renamed 'Christmas'. But I mean, the Yule log, the tree, even Santa's red suit – that's all remnants of pagan worship," Sam reclaimed.

Dean stared at his brother for a full minute. "How do you know that? What are you gonna tell me next? Easter bunny's Jewish?"

Sam opened his mouth to contradict but decided it wasn't worth it.

"So you think we're dealing with a pagan God?" Dean asked just as Emmy got out of the bathroom.

"Yeah," Sam started to say as Emmy put his phone back in his hand, "probably Hold Nickar, God of the winter solstice."

"And all these Martha Stewart wannabes, buying these fancy wreaths…"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, it's pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying 'Come kill us'."

Dean kissed his teeth. "Great." He glanced at his sister sitting at the table. "What did Bobby have to say?"

She shrugged again. "Nothing."

Dean was honestly getting sick of all these vague, one-sided answers coming out of her. If this was her way of showing how she really felt towards him, it was working.

"How's your arm?" he took a seat next to her, already reaching for it.

"It's fine." Emmy was about to pull away but Dean shot her one look that instantly made her stop. She gulped but didn't say anything else.

"Huh…" Sam suddenly spoke up, reading an article. "When you sacrifice to Hold Nickar, guess what he gives you in return."

"Lap dances, hopefully," Dean smirked as he peeled the gauze from his sister's arm.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Mild weather."

Dean looked out of the window, noticing the lack of snow. "Like no snow in the middle of December in the middle of Michigan."

"For instance."

"Do we know how to kill it yet?" Dean asked absentmindedly as he inspected the healing cut on Emmy's arm, but it still wasn't healing fast enough.

"No, Bobby's working on that right now," Sam answered, typing away on his laptop. "We got to figure out where they're selling those wreaths."

"Get the first aid kit," Dean told Emmy, pulling her up.

She blew out a breath of annoyance. "I said, I didn't need – "

"Get. The. First. Aid. Kit," he cut her off, his voice stern and leaving her no space to argue again.

Emmy clenched her teeth but did as he said. She stomped off to the other side of the room, grabbing the little box and making sure he knew she was doing this against her own will. Dean wasn't fazed though, he could handle a little tantrum.

 _Try me_.

Emmy shoved the first aid kid in his hands none too gently.

Dean raised a single eyebrow, not impressed. "Wanna try that again?"

Ticked off, she picked up the kit once again before handing it back more gently. She folded her arms over her chest as if waiting for his permission to make another move. Dean kept his face blank, making sure she knew how fed up he was with all of this.

"Sit," he ordered. Luckily she sat down without a fuss. He grabbed some ointment and started rubbing it over the cut. "You think they're selling them on purpose? Feeding the victims to this thing?"

It took a second before Sam realized he was talking to him. "Uh, maybe. Let's find out."

Dean pulled Emmy up to her feet. "Take off your shirt."

She set her jaw firmly. "No."

"Emmy."

"Dean."

"Do you really want me to give you the whole easy way - hard way speech?"

She glowered back at him. "What part of I am fine, don't you understand? Sammy, tell him I'm fine."

Sam looked up from his laptop, his eyes flicking back and forth between his siblings. "Emmy, don't make this harder on yourself."

"Oh, so now you're picking his side?"

Sam sighed. "Honey, please just let him take a look. It'll be over before you know it."

"Listen, I don't know why you're being so difficult about this, but the ball is in your court, sweetheart. The sooner you let me take a look at the bruises, the sooner we'll be done with it."

Emmy looked between her brothers, feeling utterly defeated. She didn't quite understand why she was acting out like this either. She was trying not to give in to their stupid orders, always ordering her around. She was truly sick of it and it didn't matter to her if they did it to protect her or in this case, take care of her. She was just fed up with it.

Dean watched as she angrily shrugged out of her shirt, letting it drop to the floor. He spotted her eyes tearing up and his heart sank. He grabbed her waist, pulling her between his knees.

"Why are you crying, sweetheart?"

"I'm not crying." She furiously sniffed the tears back, arms wrapped around her chest in a defiant stance. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

Dean rolled her tank top up to reach the bruises scattered around her stomach and torso. He rubbed the lotion onto the bruises and it took everything in him to keep his hands gentle and soft while Gordon's face kept flashing in his mind.

 _He's dead now_ , he kept repeating to himself.

"We haven't gotten the chance to talk about this before, but you can't do that again."

"Do what?" she asked through clenched teeth.

He looked up from rubbing a particular bruise on her lower back. "What you did back there with Gordon, cutting yourself."

She scoffed. "Oh yeah, I forgot. It's okay if you risk your life to save one of us, but God forbid if I ever return the favor for once."

Sam shut his laptop, his eyes soft as he looked at his baby sister. "That's not the same Emmy and you know it." He shared a knowing look with her, reminding her about the thing with Ruby.

"Whatever," she mumbled under her breath. She wasn't in the mood to have this discussion for the umpteenth time. If Dean could just work faster so they could leave her alone, that would be great.

"Emmy, I'm serious. I don't want you to pull a reckless move like that again, do you hear me."

She rolled her eyes at Dean. "A thank you would've been more than enough."

He closed his eyes, exhaling loudly. "Emmy, please just – "

" _Okay!"_ she snapped. "I get it – no more saving, I get it." She angrily pulled away from him, pushing her tank top back down. She picked up her shirt from the floor, pulling it on. A lone tear fell from her cheek as she looked down at her oldest brother. "I get it now, you don't wanna be saved … I get it."

"Emmy, that's not what I said," Dean grounded it.

"Yes, it is."

"It's not!" he raised his voice.

"It is!" she shouted back.

"NO, IT'S NOT!"

"GO TO HELL, DEAN!"

The words were out before she realized she had said them. Something in her told her to take it back, to tell him she didn't mean it but she was done begging. He clearly didn't care about his life, he clearly didn't care about her. If he truly didn't want to die, he would've done something.

"Emmy …" Sam was the first to have found his voice back.

"No, Sammy." She glared at Dean who was still at a loss for words. "Go to hell Dean, cause it seems you'd rather go there than stay here."

 **SPN**

 _ **Flashback: Sioux Falls, South Dakota - 1999**_

 _ **Emmy: 4 y/o – Dean: 22 y/o – Sam: 18 y/o**_

 _Bobby cleared his throat. "And where do you think you're going?"_

 _Emmy turned around from the front door, caught red handed. She bounced on the balls of her heels, hands wrapped behind her back. "Rummy and I wanted to play outside."_

" _Dressed like that?"_

 _The four year old looked down at her SpongeBob onesie, her toes wiggling in her fuzzy socks. "Oops, I forgetted to wear my coat."_

 _Bobby reached out to lock the door. "You're not going anywhere."_

 _Her face fell. "But why?"_

"' _Cause it's too cold outside."_

" _But why?" she demanded once again, trailing behind him as he made his way back into the kitchen._

" _I already let you play a few hours this mornin'."_

" _But why?"_

 _He abruptly stopped, feeling her bump into the back of his legs. Bobby turned around and picked her up, steadying her on his hip. "'Cause you just got a bath."_

 _She opened her mouth. "But w- "_

 _Bobby shut her up with a finger to her pink lips. "Because I said so."_

 _Her eyes twinkled in mischief when she wet his finger with her tongue. She giggled. "You taste like cookies, uncle Bobby."_

" _That's because I'm making some." He put her down on the kitchen counter. "Here, why don't you sprinkle some chocolate chips into the batter."_

 _She accepted the bag he had given him and poured some of it into the bowl – half of it ended up on the floor which Rumsfeld was more than happy about. Bobby sighed exasperatedly._

" _Like this, uncle Bobby?" she shot him her most adorable smile, feeling proud of herself even though she was making a mess._

 _Not having the heart to crush that little's girl's spirit, Bobby just nodded with a forced smile._

 _She grinned back, sprinkling some more chocolate chips into the bowl. Of course she had to have a taste for herself. She put a handful in her mouth, her chubby cheeks stuffed like a hamster – a very cute hamster._

" _Oh my god. Emmy!"_

 _She startled but quickly plastered a smile on her face when she caught her brother Sammy._

" _Sammy, you want some?"_

" _Uhm no I'm good, umph –" Sam apparently had no choice in the matter when his baby sister forced the chocolate chips into his mouth and there was nothing he could do but chew. "Okay, thanks honey."_

" _Want some more?" she asked innocently, her face and hands covered in chocolate. She was about to force-feed him again when Sam grabbed both her wrists in one of his hands, keeping it away from him._

 _Bobby threw him a wet washcloth. "Here," he grumbled._

" _Uncle Bobby, you want some?"_

 _He patted his round belly. "I'm full, thanks darlin'."_

 _She looked down at the dog still lapping up the chocolate chips she had dropped. "Rummy, you want some?"_

" _I think Rumsfeld already had enough," Sam said as he wiped her hands and face – marveled at how some of the chocolate was smeared on the oddest places, like the back of her ear. "You're such a messy girl, Emmy," he laughed._

 _She looked up at him in confusion, as if she couldn't decide whether to take it as a compliment or insult._

 _Sam looked at the dumbfounded look on her face and thought she was the most adorable little thing he had ever seen. He leaned in and rubbed his nose against hers. That made her giggle of course so he did it again when Bobby's phone suddenly rang._

 _The older man went to his study where he answered the call._

 _Sam tried to hear the one sided conversation but wasn't close enough. Emmy was babbling about something but he was too distracted and just nodded every now and again._

 _When Bobby got back, Sam picked up Emmy and turned to the man. "Was that Dad?"_

" _Yeah, he's on his way. Should be here for dinner."_

 _Sam's face fell. He wasn't ready, so not ready._

" _Daddy's coming!?" Emmy asked excitedly._

" _Sure he is." Bobby smiled at her, briefly stroking her soft cheek with the back of his finger. He then turned to the middle Winchester. "You alright, Sam? You look like you've seen a ghost."_

 _Sam snapped out of his thoughts and hiked Emmy higher up on his hip. "Yeah," he said, breathless. "Um, I just, I just have to – uh, have you seen Dean?"_

" _He just finished up cleaning up some tools – " Tools was another words for weapons, "He's probably in the living room."_

 _Sam nodded. "Yeah, okay, thanks Bobby."_

" _Yes, thanks uncle Bobby," Emmy smiled sweetly even though she had no idea what she was thanking him for._

" _You're welcome, sweetie," he couldn't help but chuckle, she was a funny kid._

 _Dean looked up when Sam suddenly stood in front of him, blocking his view of the television. "D'you mind? I'm kinda watching something."_

" _Can I talk to you for a sec?"_

 _Dean eyed his brother suspiciously. Sam's hair was ruffled which either meant Emmy had found something to play with again or he was nervously running his hand through it – he guessed it was the latter._

" _Sure. What's up?"_

 _Sam put Emmy down on the couch and left. Dean was tempted to ask what Sam was doing when he suddenly left, mumbling something about getting something in his room._

 _Emmy shoved her hands in Dean's face. "Look, Dean! The wrinkles are gone."_

 _Dean put her hands back a bit so he could get a better look. "Hmm, looks like Sammy's spell worked."_

" _Hmm," she hummed happily._

 _Dean pulled her onto his lap, facing him. "Why do you smell like chocolate?"_

" _Cuz I ate lots of chocolate," she reasoned._

" _How much?"_

 _She spread her arms all the way. "This much."_

" _And did you leave me some?"_

 _She snickered under her breath. "I forgetted."_

 _Dean gasped dramatically. "How dare you."_

" _I'm sorry." Emmy laughed giddily at his antics._

 _He hugged her against his chest, trapping her. "I do have to say, you smell as delicious as chocolate. Maybe if I get a little taste …" Dean started nibbling on her chubby cheeks and little neck, causing her to erupt into a fit of giggles._

" _That tickles," she shrieked._

 _Speaking of tickles – his fingers found her sides, tickling her under her armpits. She started squirming in his lap which only made him tighten his arms around her. She filled the entire house with her contagious giggles, even Dean couldn't wipe the smile off his face._

" _Sto – op! Stop, Dean!" she begged in between her laughter._

" _You're gonna suffocate the girl," Bobby randomly commented as he passed them on the way to the basement._

 _Dean stopped when he noticed her face going red. She coughed a couple of times, trying to catch her breath. He pushed some hair from her face, letting her calm down. He grabbed her face, squishing her pudgy cheeks together and wiggled her head from side to side which made her giggle again. Dean found himself laughing too. He kissed her dimpled cheeks just as Sam came down._

 _Sam grabbed the remote control and put some cartoons for Emmy._

 _Emmy heard the theme song of Sesame Street and turned in Dean's lap to watch. When Sam made sure her attention was on the screen, he pulled out the letter and handed it over to Dean._

" _What's this?"_

 _Sam gulped. "Acceptance letter."_

 _Dean's frown deepened as he opened the letter. He caught the big logo on the top corner of the letter. "Stanford University … Sam, what – "_

" _I got accepted to Stanford."_

 _Dean was silent as he read the letter, not giving away anything that went through his head. Sam studied his brother closely, trying to pick up something, anything, but his face was blank. He ran a hasty hand through his hair, his stomach was tied up in knots from the nerves._

 _After what felt like an eternity, Dean finally looked up from the letter to meet his brother's eyes. His little brother – the one that looked up at him, the one that never failed to make him proud._

" _So?" Sam's voice was shaky, the anticipation was killing him._

 _Dean put the letter down and sighed. He ran his own free hand through his hair, spiking it up. He looked back up at his brother. " … This is great news, Sam."_

 _Sam felt like he could suddenly breathe. "Y-you mean that?"_

" _Of course I mean that! How long have you known about this?"_

 _Sam was still reeling from the shock. He blindly reached behind him until he found the coffee table, he had to sit down. "I – I got it a few months ago and I – "_

" _A few months?" Dean cut him off. "Why did you wait for so long? Dude, this is awesome. I mean I knew you were smart but I guess now it's official."_

 _Sam chuckled somberly. "Yeah."_

 _Dean nudged his leg with his foot. "What's with the sour face. This is what you've always wanted, right?"_

" _It is, I just – I don't know, I mean – I-'m, I'm … " he trailed off, at a loss for words._

" _It's what mom would've wanted for you," Dean added softly, dipping his nose into Emmy's hair, taking in the scent of Vanilla, the scent that reminded him of his mother._

 _Sam fumbled with his cuff. "It's not what Dad wants."_

" _Screw Dad."_

 _Sam picked up his head to look at his brother, his jaw slightly dropped. "W-what?"_

" _He's so caught up in his vengeance, in some fight against the demon that killed mom. If that's how he wants to spend the rest of his life, that's fine with me. But that doesn't mean you should put your own life on hold to join his crusade." Dean picked up the letter, "This is your ticket out of this, Sam. You'd be stupid if you didn't take it."_

" _He's not gonna like the news."_

" _Nope," Dean agreed. "Chances are, he won't ever want to speak to you again. But it's dad, he'll come around."_

 _Sam scoffed. "I doubt it. No one holds a grudge like,dad."_

 _Dean half-smiled. "Yeah, I know. Just trynna lighten things up."_

" _I'm thinking about telling him tonight. I have to get to campus in a few weeks and I probably shouldn't wait any longer."_

" _So soon?"_

 _Sam nodded. "Yeah. I've already packed my bags and I bought tickets to California."_

" _What about money?"_

" _I saved up the last few months. It should get me through the first few months. I'll find a job or something once I get there."_

 _Dean blew out a breath. "Wow, so you really got everything planned out already, huh?"_

" _You think I should wait after Christmas is over to tell him?"_

 _Dean shrugged. "Nah, maybe Jesus will have mercy on you."_

 _Sam chuckled. "Yeah right." The smile fell off his face when he realized something else. "What about Emmy?" Sam couldn't bare the thought of being away from her. She was just a child, she grew up way too fast and he wanted to be there with every step she took._

" _Don't worry about her, she'll understand one day." Dean wrapped both his arms around his baby sister who was still obliviously humming to the song on screen. She lifted up a hand and palmed the side of his face, a habit. Dean turned his face to kiss her little hand. "She'll follow into her big brother's footsteps one day," he told Sam with a promising smile._

 _Hell yeah, there was no way either of them were going to let their dad turn her into one of his soldiers. Never._

 _ **End flashback.**_

 **SPN**

While Dean went to investigate who was selling the wreaths, Sam took it upon him to take a walk with Emmy. He knew it was best if the two spent some time away from each other, even if it was just an hour. Since he was already outside, he decided to make himself useful and go to the laundromat.

Emmy didn't say much, in fact she hadn't said a word since she left the motel room. Sam didn't push her, if she wanted to talk, she'd talk. She wordlessly helped him fold the clean clothes and put them back in their bags. Usually she would complain about being on laundry duty but she seemed content doing it as long as she got something on her hands, something to distract herself.

When they were done, they walked back to the motel room in silence. Sam did smile a bit when she put her hand in his as they crossed the street. The little Emmy he knew was still in there, she was just being driven out by the anguish and hurt plaguing her day and night. Sam ran his fingers on the back of her knuckles and was glad she didn't pull away even when they were already across the street. He didn't realize he missed the affectionate touch until now.

Back at the motel room, Dean was already back. He wasn't in the mood for research but he found out he actually needed the time alone, just doing what he was good at. The fresh air he had taken wasn't too bad either, it cleared up his head.

He lifted up his head from his phone when the door opened. Emmy entered first, followed closely by Sam. Emmy put down a bag of neatly folded clothes before jumping onto the couch, and turning on the TV. She didn't talk to Dean or even looked him in the eyes, and he was fine with that because he didn't think he'd be able to look in her eyes either.

Sam shrugged out of his jacket and acknowledged his brother with a nod.

"Did you find anything."

"Yeah, Madge Carrigan, a local lady. Apparently the wreaths were so special, she gave them to people for free."

"Without charging them?" Sam was surprised.

"Yup. How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would cost?"

Sam rolled up his sleeves, sitting down on the end of his bed. "A couple hundred dollars, at least."

"This lady's giving them away for free? What do you think about that?"

"Well, sounds pretty suspicious."

 **SPN**

The next day, after the brothers paid a little visit to Madge Carrigan. The whole pagan vibe her husband and her emitted was a clear indication that the couple were into some satanical worshipping. Also, their entire house was decorated with the infamous meadowsweet wreaths.

That night, Dean parked the Impala across the street. They eyed the house with the perfect white picket fence and manicured lawn littered with Christmas decorations. Alright, this was the night they'll put an end to this and hopefully they'll finally can get the hell out of this town.

Sam had the wooden stakes in his lap, checking if they were sharp enough.

Dean turned in his seat. Emmy hadn't spoken to him since her little outburst and he was already missing her sweet voice, even if she was telling him to go to hell. He still didn't know how he felt about that. He wasn't going to lie, it hurt like a bitch. And yet he felt like he deserved it. But looking at her face, he felt like she was hurting more than he was.

"You're gonna be fine for a few minutes, sweetheart?"

She nodded quietly.

"Call Bobby if we're taking too long, okay?" Sam told her.

She nodded again, still not meeting their eyes.

Sam exchanged a look with his brother as he passed him a wooden stake.

Dean nodded. "Alright, let's do this."

Emmy didn't watch as they left. She lay back on the backseat and put her headphones on. She turned the volume up until it drowned her thoughts. She was sick of hearing herself think lately. Sick of feeling guilt and anger and all the other emotions. Just sick of everything.

She didn't know how long she was zoning out, almost falling asleep until a knock on the window woke her up. Emmy startled, opening her eyes to see a boy leaning against the Impala as he sat on his bike.

Emmy put her headphones around her neck and sat up. She rolled the window down just enough to eye him up and down. He was wearing basketball shorts with a sweater a few sizes too big. His black hair was curly and it kinda looked nice but not with the hat he was wearing.

"What?"

"What are you doing all by yourself in the back of a car?" The boy was obnoxiously chewing on a gum, Emmy could practically smell the mint on his breath.

"None of your business," she shot back.

He nodded, clearly not offended by her rude tone. He ran his hand over the sleek roof. "Nice car."

"Don't touch it."

He continued caressing the Impala just to spite her. "Wanna hang out?"

Emmy looked at him disgustedly. _"No!"_

"Okay, cool. Is it fine if I stay here?"

"Go away!" She rolled the window back up and put her headphones on. The nameless boy got back on his bike and rode up and down the street. Apparently he had nothing better to do than annoying the hell out of her.

Emmy picked up her phone, checking the time. Thirty minutes have passed since her brothers went inside that house. She contemplated calling Bobby but what could he possibly do, he was all the way back in South Dakota. Deciding against it, she got out of the car.

"You changed your mind?" the boy asked, circling around her.

"No." Emmy crossed the street and stalked over to the house. She went on her tiptoes and tried to take a look inside. The window on the front porch was covered by a set of curtains which was useless. She climbed the small fence and went to the back, ignoring the boy's question about where she was going. There was another window also obscured by curtains but this time it had a small crack between and it was enough to peek inside.

Emmy pressed her face close against the window and gasped when she caught both her brothers tied up on a chair in the kitchen. Her eyes widened in alarm when the lady whipped out a knife, cutting Sam's arm first, his blood filling up a bowl.

She ran back to the car, happy to see the boy was still there. "I need your help," she rushed out.

"With what?" he asked nonchalantly.

"I need you to distract the people living in that house."

He didn't look interested. "What's in it for me?"

Emmy dug her hands in her pockets and came up with some pennies and dollar bills. "Uhm, I-I got six bucks and fifty-nine cents."

He laughed. "Uhm, no thanks."

She jumped in front of his bike before he could leave. "Please," she begged, "you gotta help me. Please."

He blew a big bubble with his gum as he considered it. He smacked the bubble loudly between his lips. "I want the six bucks and your headphones."

Emmy eagerly shoved the money in his hands and the headphones. "We have a deal?"

He put the headphones around his own neck after tucking the money in his pocket. "Uhm, I also want a kiss. A real kiss."

Emmy recoiled. "Hell no!"

"Too bad. Guess you're gonna have to find someone else to –"

"No, no, no, please don't go." Emmy pinched her eyes closed, she was so going to regret this. "Alright, fine. Only _one_ kiss."

The boy smirked triumphantly. "Sweet." He puckered his lips and leaned forward.

"Whoa!" Emmy took a step back. "Not on the lips, mister."

He put his hands on the handle bars of his bike and made a move to leave.

"No, wait!" Emmy wished she could slap that smug smirk off his face right now. "Alright, here goes nothing." She closed her eyes and wished this would end fast.

The boy grabbed her face and didn't wait a second to press his sticky lips against hers. A second passed, and then another, and then another and suddenly Emmy felt something slimy and it made her push him away with all her might.

She gagged, realizing that was his tongue. She frantically wiped her mouth, disgusted by the fact she could taste his gum on her mouth and she was right, it was mint.

"Has anyone ever told you, you suck at kissing?" he commented casually.

"I think I'm gonna throw up," was all Emmy could say.

He rolled his eyes. "So how long am I supposed to distract these people?"

"Just give me five minutes."

"Five? Yeah, you're gonna have to throw in another kiss if you want me to –"

Emmy gave him no chance to talk as she grabbed the front of his sweater. "Listen to me, you're gonna distract them for as long as I want, or I'm gonna tell my brothers you forced me to kiss you and trust me, if you know what's good for you, you'll listen to me and shut up."

"What brothers?" he scoffed, he thought she was bluffing.

Emmy took out her phone and scrolled through the pictures until she found one of her brothers. "These brothers."

"Oh," he gulped, taking in their size. These guys were huge.

"Are we clear?"

He nodded.

"Good." Emmy released him, stroking down the creases in his sweatshirt. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

"Oh, y-yeah, I'm sorry." The boy nearly stumbled as he made his way over to the house. "Please don't tell your brothers."

Emmy rolled her eyes and made her way back to the kitchen window.

 **SPN**

"You bitch!" Dean screamed after Mrs. Carrigan sliced through his arm just like he did with Sam.

"Oh, my goodness me! Somebody owes a nickel to the swear jar," Madge chuckled. "Oh, do you know what I say when I feel like swearing? Fudge."

"I'll try and remember that!" Dean forced through gritted teeth.

Mr. Carrigan put down his pipe and picked up a pair of pliers instead. "You boys have no idea how lucky you are. There was a time when kids came from miles around, just to be sitting where you are."

Sam felt the sweat trickle down his skin when the man stood right in front of him. "What do you think you're doing with those?"

Mr. Carrigan simply smiled sinisterly.

Dean eyed Madge with a look that could kill. "You fudging touch me again and I'll fudging kill you!"

She smiled, patting the top of his head like a good boy. "Very good!"

Madge sliced through Dean's other arm making him hiss out in pain while Mr. Carrigan grabbed Sam's hand.

"No. No. Don't," Sam panicked.

Mr. Carrigan pulled the nail out of Sam's index finger and Sam screamed in agony. He held up the nail. "Oh, we got a winner!"

They put all the ingredients in the bowl and stirred them up.

Madge wiped her hands with her apron. "What else, dear?"

Mr. Carrigan put his pipe back in his mouth. "Well, let's see. Uh, fingernail, blood. Oh… " his eyes lit up as he hit his own head, "Sweet Peter on a popsicle stick, I forgot the tooth."

"Oh, dear!" She laughed.

"Merry Christmas, Sam," Dean panted.

Sam groaned in response.

Mr. Carrigan picked up the pliers one again and grabbed Dean's chin, forcing his mouth open. "Open wide… and say, aaah."

Dean closed his eyes, it was best if he just submitted, causing a fight will probably hurt more. Mr. Carrigan reached inside his mouth when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Dean's eyes snapped open. "Somebody gonna get that?" he said with the pliers still in his mouth. "You should get that."

Mr. Carrigan rolled his eyes and sighed. "Come on."

Dean sighed in relief and ran his tongue over his teeth.

Sam threw his head back and let out a long sigh. When he picked his head up again, he suddenly noticed a movement behind the kitchen window. It made a creaking sound as it opened and Sam was worried they'd hear it but he cringed when he suddenly heard a boy singing loudly at the front door.

Dean winced at the false notes. "Gotta give him props for trying," he commented dryly.

"Oh no," Sam suddenly said.

"What, what is it?" Dean wished he could turn around but he was tied up at the moment. "Sam, what is it?"

Sam watched as Emmy crawled through the window, ending up on the kitchen counter. She put her finger to her lips when she caught Sam looking at her.

"Emmy, what the hell are you doing here," he whispered yelled.

Dean tensed up. "Emmy? Emmy, get back in the car right now."

"Just shut up. Both of you." She opened some drawers until she found a knife. She quickly cut through the ropes and tape. The boy seemed to get to the last part of his song and Emmy knew that he wouldn't be able to hold off any longer so she ushered her brothers out of their chairs. "Come one, quick."

Sam grabbed her cheeks and quickly kissed her forehead. "Thanks."

She found the corner of her lips twitch just a little. "You're welcome."

Dean looked down at her but didn't say anything. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of his way. Emmy swallowed down the hurt but felt like this was her own fault after all. He said he didn't need any saving and here she was, doing just that.

They got into the living room and closed all the doors so the Carrigan's couldn't get in.

"What do we do now? The evergreen stakes are in the basement!"

"Well, we need more evergreen!" Sam snapped.

"What about the Christmas tree," Emmy suggested.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, it's perfect. Help me get this, Sam."

They both shoved a large cabinet in front of the tree to block the entrance. They pushed the Christmas tree over and broke the branches to use as stakes. Emmy offered to help but Sam told her to just keep a look out.

She pressed her ear against the door to the kitchen and heard that the boy had stopped singing. There was some shuffling behind the door and muffled voices. They found out that her brothers had gotten away. Emmy jumped when the door rattled violently.

Dean grabbed her and pushed her behind him just as the couple broke down the door.

Emmy screamed when Mr. Carrigan tackled Dean to the ground. She quickly got back on her feet, "Sammy! Behind you!"

Madge had walked up behind Sam. "You little thing. I loved that tree."

Her face momentarily distorted and Emmy gulped.

Sam raised his stake but Madge hit him hard, making him crash onto the floor. Emmy crawled to get the stake and threw it at her brother. Sam caught it single handedly and stabbed Madge. He pushed the stake deeper until she fell to the ground, dead.

"MADGE!" Mr. Carrigan screamed for his wife.

Dean took the opportunity and hit Mr. Carrigan with his branches. He stabbed him again and again until he lay dead next to his wife. Dean was breathing heavily when Sam came to stand next to him, looking down at the dead bodies.

"Merry Christmas."

 **SPN**

 _ **Flashback: Sioux Falls, South Dakota - 1999**_

 _ **Emmy: 4 y/o – Dean: 22 y/o – Sam: 18 y/o**_

" _Daddy!" Emmy ran into John's open arms. He picked her up and twirled her around while peppering her face with kisses._

 _She squealed and hugged his neck tighter. "I really missed you, Daddy."_

" _I missed you more, baby girl." He rubbed his stubbled beard against her soft skin making her giggle._

" _Glad you could make it, dad," Dean greeted his father with a one-armed hug._

 _Emmy grabbed her father's face. "Daddy, did you get me a present?"_

 _He nuzzled her cheek. "Of course I did. You gonna put in under the Christmas tree?"_

 _She nodded eagerly._

" _Alright," he chuckled. He looked around the house in search for someone. "Where's Sam?"_

 _Dean scratched the back of his head. "Oh, he's prolly upstairs. Why don't you go up, I think he has something really important to say."_

 _John frowned, not liking the sound of that._

 _Dean poked Emmy's belly. "Hey, cutie pie. Wanna go outside and make another snowman?"_

 _She shook her head, burying her face in her father's neck. "I wanna stay with Daddy."_

" _C'mon, it'll be fun," he pressed._

" _It's fine Dean – "_

" _No, Dad." Realizing how that came out, he wet his lips and rephrased, "I mean, I think it's better if you go talk to Sam alone, just the two of you …"_

 _John narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "What's going on?"_

" _Nothing, just take it easy on him, alright?"_

 _Dean eventually managed to get Emmy outside where he build a second snowman with her. She was telling him a story about some book she had read when Sam took her to the Library. Honestly Dean didn't understand a word she was saying – something about two sisters who were twins and the one twin was better looking than the other and then it somehow jumped to princesses and dragons and Dean wasn't even aware it was a fairytale, and the ugly twin ended up being a beautiful swan and he was pretty sure she was mixing different stories into one. Either way, he just nodded and did his best to appear really interested._

" _You wanna put the carrot in his head?"_

" _Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" she jumped up and down._

 _He laughed and picked her up. She grabbed the carrot between her purple mittens and pushed the carrot in the head._

 _Dean chuckled. "Sweetheart, that's his eye."_

" _Oh." She adjusted it to the center of his face. "Better?"_

" _Much better."_

" _Can I put the sticks in his arms now?"_

 _She had a weird way of phrasing it but he understood what she meant. "Go ahead."_

 _Emmy just picked up a branch when the front door suddenly opened with a slam. Sam stormed out of the house with a bag slung around his shoulder. His nostrils were flaring, his body shaking from anger or the cold, Dean couldn't tell._

" _Hey, hey, hey what's going on?" Dean stopped him with a hand to his chest. "Sam, what happened?"_

" _I'm leaving, Dean."_

" _W-what, you mean now?"_

 _Sam nodded. "I need to get outta here. Away from him."_

 _Dean wasn't following. "There's still some time left, why the sudden rush?" Sam wasn't listening. Dean grabbed his brother's face. "Hey, I'm talking to you. You're not ready to leave – "_

" _I'm ready."_

" _No you're not."_

" _Been ready for months now," Sam interjected. "Dean please, you know I gotta do this. I can't wait any longer. I can't be around that man for a second longer."_

 _Dean dropped his hands, eyes soft. "It doesn't have to go this way, you know?"_

" _What did you expect?" Sam chuckled somberly. "It's dad."_

 _Emmy tugged at her brother's pants. "Sammy, where are you going?"_

 _Sam felt a big lump in his throat and it suddenly made it really hard for him to breathe. He crouched down to her level and adjusted the woolen hat on her head so he could see her face more clearly. He grabbed her tiny hands and warmed them up between his._

" _Sammy's going away for some time but you'll see me soon again."_

 _She looked up at him with wobbly, pouty lips and teary eyes. "But I don't want you to go."_

 _Sam felt his heart break. He picked her up, kissing her pink button nose. "You can come visit me. We could go to the beach and eat lots of ice cream."_

 _She shook her head, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. "I don't want you to go. Sammy stay."_

" _Oh, I'm so sorry, honey," he choked back. He hugged her closely, repeatedly kissing the side of her face. "I'm gonna miss you so much."_

" _Sammy don't go," she sobbed, clinging to his jacket._

 _Dean looked down at his feet, feeling his own eyes prickle with tears._

" _I love you, you know that?" Sam mumbled into her ear. "I love you to the moon and back, remember? I love you, Emmy."_

" _Noooo! Sammy, please don't go," she wailed._

 _ **End flashback**_

 **SPN**

"Emmy?" Sam put a hand on her shoulder, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She jumped. "Oh. Did you say something?"

He brushed back some hair from her face. "You okay?"

"Hmmm," she nodded. "Just thinking about the last time we celebrated Christmas together with dad."

Sam's face fell in realization. He remembered too. How could he not, it was the day he had left for Stanford. A painful memory that set the beginning of a string of tragedies following.

"You think Dean's gonna like this?" Emmy wondered out loud, pointing at the decorated motel room. They had really outdone themselves this time, they even found a Christmas tree.

Sam slung his arm around her shoulder, hugging her to his side. "He'll love it," he promised with a kiss on top of her head.

Dean chose that moment to enter the motel room. He stopped short, taking in his surroundings. He briefly thought he had walked into the wrong room. "What's this?"

Sam spread his arms. "What do you think it is? It's Christmas.

Dean was baffled. "You guys did all that while I was away for two hours."

Emmy nodded. She didn't dare to speak as she still felt like they were on bad terms.

"Wow." Dean slowly walked around the room, taking in the detailed decoration. "You even got eggnog?" He was beyond amazed. "What made you change your mind?"

Emmy chewed on her bottom lip, not sure what to say. She felt like an apology wouldn't fix things right now.

"Here, uh … try the eggnog." Sam passed him a cup. "Let me know if it needs some more kick." He held up a bottle of whiskey.

Dean sipped at it and coughed. "No, we're good."

"Good," Sam smiled. "Well, uh, have a seat. Let's do… Christmas stuff, or whatever."

Dean took in the Christmas tree and chuckled when he caught the car air fresheners, well that explained the smell in the room.

Emmy sat down on the couch, curling her legs under herself.

"All right, first things first." Sam clapped his hands together and took a package wrapped in paper.

Emmy frowned. Where did he get that? "I thought we weren't doing any presents."

"I said that? Huh." He winked at her and put the item in her lap. "Merry Christmas, Emmy."

Emmy looked down at the package, as if she didn't already feel guilty enough. "I-I didn't get you guys anything," she admitted shyly.

"That's cause we don't want anything," he reassured her as he sat next to her.

"Yeah but it's not fair – "

"Emmy, just open it," Dean cut her off.

She looked at him, feeling even more guilty. They were supposed to be doing something nice for Dean and now they ended up doing something nice for her. She didn't deserve this.

"Emmy if you don't open it – " Dean started again.

"Alright, alright." She ripped the paper off and gasped when she saw the box of a brand new MacBook.

Sam nudged her. "Well? Do you like it?"

"I-I can't take this." She started shaking her head. "I can't take this."

"What do you mean you can't take this. It's what you've always wanted, right?"

"It's too expensive. And I don't deserve this anyway, so take it back." She was about to put it away but Sam opened the box instead and took the laptop out. "No, Sammy! Put it back."

"It's rude to turn down gifts," he said, putting the laptop on the table. "And I already threw away the receipt."

"See it as a birthday gift and Christmas gift all wrapped in one," Dean told her but she still didn't seem okay with it.

"Thanks, Sammy," she hugged him tightly and Sam thought this was the greatest gift she could have ever given him.

"You're welcome, honey." He kissed her hair a couple of times before releasing her.

"Alright, you ready for mine?"

Emmy stared at Dean. "You got me something too?"

"Well, don't look so surprised. Why wouldn't I get you anything?"

"That's a stupid question," she mumbled under her breath. "Why did you get me a gift if you knew we weren't going to celebrate Christmas?"

"I actually bought this a while ago. Just been waiting for the right moment, and I guess that's now." He threw two envelopes in her lap. "Open the fat one first."

Emmy was moved by all this and opened the heaviest envelope. She took one look inside and shook her head fast. It was money, _a lot_ of money. "No, no way. I said I didn't want it."

"I knew you were gonna react like this, so I'm giving this to Sam to hold on to it until you'll need it."

"Is this Bela's money cause I don't want it. I already told you I didn't want it," Emmy found herself repeating over and over again.

"Relax, Bela's money is only like a quarter of what's in there."

Emmy's jaw dropped. "What? How much is in there?"

"Fifty thousand," Dean announced casually.

"Holy cow, where did you even get that much money from?" Emmy thought her eyes were going to pop out of her skull. "Sammy, you knew about this?"

"Emmy, you don't have to use it now. It's for when you're older, when you decide to go to college one day," he said, sharing a glance with his brother. This is what they both wanted for her.

She put her face in her hands. "This is all too much."

Dean smiled fondly. If he could give her more, he would because she was worth it.

"There's another envelope."

She groaned in her hands but picked it up either way. She was dreadful as she opened it. This one was much lighter and it turned out that there were only three tickets inside to …

"DISNEYLAND?!"

Sam couldn't help but laugh at her face.

Emmy thought she was going to cry. "I can't believe you did this. I can't believe …"

Dean grinned. "Oh you better start believing. You've always wanted to go to Disneyland since you saw The Little Mermaid." He was met with utter silence. "You gonna say something, sweetheart?"

"I think she's speechless," Sam chuckled, rubbing her back in comfort.

It was true, Emmy was at a loss for words. Her shoulders were shaking and at first Sam thought she was laughing until he realized she was crying.

"Aww, honey, hey – hey, it's okay. You don't have to cry, Emmy." Sam was about to hug her but she pushed him away.

"Emmy, baby, what's wrong?" Dean frowned, stroking her hand but she pulled away. "Is it the gifts? Is it too much?"

Her only response was to cry harder.

"Hey, it's okay baby. Emmy, it's okay." Dean sat on her other side, squeezing her between them. He pulled her hands away from her face while Sam continued rubbing her back.

"Just breathe, Emmy. Just breathe," Sam soothed.

"I-I-I d-don't deserve-e this-s-s," she sobbed.

"What are you talking about? Of course you deserve this," Dean insisted.

She shook her head. "N-no, I-I-I don't."

"Oh, Emmy." Sam hugged her warmly, wishing he could just her hold like this forever until he took all the pain away.

Dean stroked her hair from her face. "Baby, I don't understand where you're getting all of this from but we got you this because we love you, more than you know. And you deserve even more than this."

"B-but I was s-so mean to-o you b-both, especially-y you D-Dean."

"It's all forgiven now." Dean hugged her too, wrapping her up in both her brothers' arms.

"I-I'm really s-sorry," she hiccupped.

Sam shushed her as he wiped her tears away. "It's okay now, Emmy. Nothing to be sorry about. You have every right to be angry with us. We know how hard this is for you and we know we never should have put you in this position."

A fresh set of tears rolled down her cheeks and her brothers' arms only tightened around her. Their hearts couldn't take all this pain rolling off of her in waves. She was hurting worse than they thought and it was a miracle she had kept it back for so long. Their little sister was strong in so many ways but even she had her breaking point and it seemed like she had reached it.

"D-Dean I-I didn't mean w-what I s-said to you."

"Shh, I know, baby, I know."

"I d-don't want you to go t-to hell, Dean. I don't w-w-want you to go. P-please don't go."

Sam pulled back when he was hit by a sudden sense of a deja-vu. His sister clinging to him, begging him not to go. It was exactly six years ago. Only now she was hanging onto their other brother. Oh god, what were they putting her through. This wasn't fair.

Emmy was in Dean's lap by now where he hugged her so tight, he couldn't even breathe. "Emmy, please don't cry. You know I hate seeing you cry."

"I don't w-want you t-to die. I don't want y-you t-to leave m-me. P-please don't leave m-me. Please don't."

A tear trickled down his green eye as he cupped the back of her head, pulling her even closer. He wished there was a way to suck the pain away from the small body in his arms. He wished he could kiss it better, fix her with hugs. He wished he could shower her with love and put a smile back on her face.

They were wrong, hell wasn't awaiting him. _This_ was already hell. Holding somebody you love close to your heart, feeling hers beat against yours, knowing that you'll miss that rhythm. He tried to memorize everything about her – the touch of her soft skin, the smell of her hair, the sound of her laughter, the taste of her tears, her beautiful smile and gorgeous eyes. And it terrified Dean at the thought that he might forget it all.

The love he felt for the little girl wasn't something he had ever felt before. He loved his dad, loved Bobby and _loved_ Sam even more. But Emmy, his baby girl, she was something else. There were no words that could explain the way she sent warmth inside of him, making him feel like he was walking on clouds. It sounded cliché but she was everything to him, she was the air he breathed and she was the one that gave him strength to wake up every day. The world could burn for all he cared as long as she was okay. And now he felt her crumbling in his arms and it was like a wake up call – Dean didn't want to go to hell either. But he was doing it for _her_.

Love is like heaven but it can hurt like hell. Dean would know, he was living it right now.

 **A/N: Thoughts? This was by far the hardest chapter I've ever written, half the time I couldn't see what I was typing from crying all the time.**

 **What about the flashbacks? You like?**

 **Also I really wanna thank all of you for your continued support. You have no idea what that does to me when I see a new follower or a review. It just brightens my day and makes me wanna write more! So you know what to do ;)**

 **Love you ! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**


	10. Another Author's Note

**Hello my beautiful readers!**

 **I know I dissapeared off the face of the earth for quite some time now, and I owe you guys an apology.**

 **I am sorry for neglecting this story, I had other priorities and unfortunately my stories were no longer one of them.**

 **You might remember the fact that I got married a year ago with the love of my life. And a few months ago, I found out that we received the best gift ever.**

 **I got pregnant.**

 **The pregnancy hasn't been easy on me, especially not the first few months. I could barely go through the day without puking my guts out, and some days I couldn't even get out of my bed. So I think it speaks for itself that updating BR(OK)EN was the least of my worries.**

 **I'm much better now, there's still some sick days but it's nothing I can't manage.**

 **I don't know when the next update will be, I honestly miss writing and I miss little, sweet Emmy. But what I do know is that I haven't totally abandoned this story. I'm still a big fan of SPN and there is no way I'll ever leave the fandom.**

 **So the only thing I'm asking is to please be patient. I appreciate your continued support and loyalty. And I know you've all been waiting for a chapter, trust me I know, and knowing** ** _that_** **is exactly what keeps me going.**

 **Thank you so much for not giving up on me, I love you all!**


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